LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



Lwes£l( 



SHAKESPEARE'S 

TRAGEDY OF CYMBELINE. 



INTRODUCTION, AND NOTES EXPLANATORY AND CRITICAL. 



FOR USE IN SCHOOLS AND FAMILIES. 



Rev. HENRY N. e HUDSON, 

PROFESSOR OF SHAKESPEARE IN BOSTON UNIVERSITY. 




BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY GINN & HEATH. 

1881. 



^ 






*V 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1881, by 

Henry N. Hudson, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



Ginn & Heath: 

J. S. Cushing, Printer, 16 Hawley Street, 

Boston. 



INTRODUCTION 



SHAKESPEARE in his policy of authorship just reverses 
that of the popular fiction-writers of our day. Niggard 
of space, prodigal of thought, he uses the closest compres- 
sion, they the widest expansion : his aim is to crowd the 
greatest possible wealth of mind into a given time ; theirs, to 
fill the largest- possible time with a certain modicum of mat- 
ter. The difference is greatly owing, no doubt, to the differ- 
ent spirit of the present age, which requires the popular 
author to be a miser of his own time, and a spendthrift of 
the reader's. 

The Poet's structure of language and mode of expression 
are in keeping with this policy, and indeed took their 
growth under its discipline. Nor is this all. His whole cast 
of dramatic architecture and composition proceeds by the 
same laws. In studying a work of his, the mind, if really 
alive, does not stop with the work itself; for indeed this 
stands in vital continuity with a world outside of itself. 
He so keeps the relations of things, that besides what is 
expressed a great many things are suggested, and far more is 
inferred than is directly seen. Whatever matter he has 
specially in hand to bring forward and press upon the atten- 
tion, the delineation opens out into a broad and varied 
background and a far-stretching perspective, with seed- 
points of light shooting through it in all directions. Thus, 
if we look well to it, we shall find that in one of his dramatic 



4 CYMBELINE. 

groups the entire sphere of social humanity is represented, 
though sometimes under one aspect, sometimes under an- 
other ; for the variety of these is endless ; and the mind, 
instead of being held to what is immediately shown, is sug- 
gested away, as by invisible nerves of thought, into a vast 
field of inference and reflection. This is because the part 
of nature, as he gives it, is relative to the whole of nature ; 
isolated to the eye indeed, for so it must be, but not to the 
mind. Hence, in reading one of his plays the hundredth 
time, one finds not only new thoughts, but new trains of 
thought springing up within him. For indeed what he 
opens to us is not a cask, but a fountain, and is therefore 
literally inexhaustible. 

And this habit of mind, if that be the right name for it, 
grew upon the Poet as he became older and more himself, 
or more practised in his art. It may almost be said indeed 
that his later works would be better, if they were not so 
good ; they being so overcharged with life and power as 
rather to numb the common reader's apprehensive faculties 
than kindle them; and in fact it is doubtful whether the 
majority of those who read Shakespeare ever grow to a 
hearty relish of them. For average readers, he was better 
when less himself; and so I have commonly found such 
readers preferring his earlier plays. And it is remarkable 
that even some of his critics and editors, especially those 
of the last age, thought he must have been past his prime 
and in the decadence of his powers, when he wrote Antony 
and Cleopatra, which is perhaps his crowning instance of 
workmanship overcharged with poetic valour and potency. 
But, generally, in the plays of his latest period, we have his 
fiery force of intellect concentrating itself to the highest 
intensity which the language could be made to bear, and 



INTRODUCTION. 5 

often exceeding even its utmost capacity ; while in turn the 
language in his use became as a thing inspired, developing 
an energy and flexibility and subtilty such as may well make 
him at once the delight and the despair of all who under- 
take to write the English tongue. For he here seems a 
perfect autocrat of expression, moulding and shaping it 
with dictatorial prerogative ; all this too, with the calmness 
of a spontaneous omniloquence. In his hands, indeed, the 
language is like a grand cathedral organ, with its every 
touch at his instant command, from the softest notes which 
the most delicate spirit of sense can apprehend, to the lord- 
liest harmonies that mortal hearing is able to sustain. 



Date of the Composition. 

The Tragedy of Cymbeline, as it is called in the origi- 
nal copy, belongs, both by internal and external marks j to 
the last ten years of the Poet's life, — the same period 
which produced Othello, Coriolanus, Antony and Cleopatra, 
The Tempest, and The Winter's Tale. The only contempo- 
rary notice we have of it is from the Diary of Dr. Simon 
Forman, who gives with considerable detail the leading inci- 
dents of the play as he saw it performed somewhere between 
April, 1610, and May, 161 1. It may be well to add that 
Cymbeline, as we learn by an entry of Sir Henry Herbert, 
Master of the Revels, was acted at Court in January, 1633, 
and was " well liked by the King" ; which is to me an inter- 
esting fact in reference to that ill-starred Prince, Charles the 
First, who, whatever may be thought of him as a statesman 
and ruler, was undoubtedly a man of royal tastes in litera- 
ture and art. 

There is no reason to doubt that Cymbeline was fresh 



6 CYMBELINE. 

from the mint when Forman saw it. It has the same gen- 
eral characteristics of style and imagery as The Tempest 
and The Winter's Tale ; while perhaps no play in the series 
abounds more in those overcrammed and elliptical passages 
which show too great a rush and press of thought for the 
author's space. The poetry and characterization, also, are 
marked by the same severe beauty and austere sweetness as 
in the other plays just named : therewithal the moral senti- 
ment of the piece comes out, from time to time, in just 
those electric starts which indicate, to my mind, the Poet's 
last and highest stage of art. 

The play was first printed in the folio of 1623, where it 
makes the last in the volume. It is there placed in the 
division of Tragedies, as The Winter's Tale is in that of 
Comedies ; though the two might, I think, with more pro- 
priety be set apart in a class by themselves. For in these 
instances the Poet gave himself up more unreservedly than 
ever to the freedom and variety of Nature, ordering the 
elements of dramatic interest in utter disregard of dramatic 
precedent. For the divisions of Tragedy and Comedy are 
arbitrary ; there is nothing answering to them in human life : 
and why should the Drama be tied to any other conditions 
than those of human life ? And Shakespeare seems to have 
thought that there was no reason or law of Art why all the 
forms of human transpiration should not run together just as 
freely in the Drama as they do in fact. If he had been a 
pedant, he would not have thought so ; but he was not a 
pedant. Nor have we any reason to suppose that the folio 
arrangement of the plays was of his ordering : it was the 
work, no doubt, of the Editors, who classed the plays ac- 
cording to their general affinities ; and signs are not wanting 
that they were sometimes at a loss how to place them. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Sources of the Plot. 



In its structure, Cymbeline is more complex and involved 
than any other of the Poet's dramas. It includes no less 
than four distinct groups of persons, with each its several 
interest and course of action. First, we have Imogen, Post- 
humus, Pisanio, and Iachimo, in which group the main in- 
terest is centred; then, the King, the Queen, and Prince 
Cloten, the Queen's shrewd blockhead of a son, who carry- 
on a separate scheme of their own ; next, the Imperial rep- 
resentative, Lucius, who comes first as Roman Ambassador 
to reclaim the neglected tribute, and then as general with 
an army to enforce it ; last, old Belarius and the two lost 
Princes, who emerge from their hiding-place to bear a lead- 
ing part in bringing about the catastrophe. All these groups 
however, though without any concert or any common pur- 
pose of their own, draw together with perfect smoothness 
and harmony in working out the author's plan ; the several 
threads of interest and lines of action being woven into one 
texture, richly varied indeed, but seeming as natural as life 
itself; the more so perhaps, that the actors themselves know 
not how or why they are thus brought together. 

The only part of the drama that has any historical basis 
is that about the demanding and enforcing of the Roman 
tribute. This Shakespeare derived, as usual in matters of 
British history, from Holinshed, who places the scene in the 
reign of the Emperor Augustus, and a few years before the 
beginning of the Christian era. The domestic part of the 
King's action, with all that relates to the Queen and Cloten, 
except the name of the latter, is, so far as we know, a pure 
invention of the Poet's ; as is also the entire part of Bela- 
rius and the King's two sons, except that the names Guide- 



8 CYMBELINE. 

rius and Arviragus were found in Holinshed. The main plot 
of the drama, except the strong part which Pisanio has in it, 
is of fabulous origin, the story however being used with the 
Poet's customary freedom of enrichment and adaptation. 

What source Shakespeare drew directly from in this part 
of the work, is not altogether clear. During the Middle 
Ages, and under the Feudal system, heads of families were 
liable to be away from home, often for a long while together, 
in wars and military expeditions. Then too the hospitalities 
of those times were large and free, the entertainment of 
strangers and travellers being made much of in the code of 
ancient chivalry. Of course the fidelity both of husbands 
and wives was liable to be sorely tried during these long 
separations, the former by those whom they were meeting or 
visiting, the latter by those whom they were entertaining. 
It might well be, that absent husbands, full of confidence in 
those to whom and by whom the sacred pledge had been 
given, sometimes laid wagers on their fidelity, and encour- 
aged or permitted trials of it to be made. Doubtless, also, 
there was many a polished libertine who took special pride 
in provoking some arrangement of the kind, or in making 
such trials without any arrangement. Thus questions turn- 
ing on that point came to be matter of common and familiar 
interest, entering into the serious thoughts of people far more 
than is the case in our time. So that there was no extrava- 
gance in the incident on which the main plot of this drama 
turns. 

The chief points in the story seem to have been a sort of 
common property among the writers of Mediaeval Romance. 
The leading incidents — as the wager, the villain's defeat, 
his counterfeit of success, the husband's scheme of revenge 
by the death of the wife, her escape, his subsequent dis- 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

covery of the fraud, the punishment of the liar, and the final 
reunion of the separated pair — are found in two French 
romances of the thirteenth century, and in a French miracle- 
play of still earlier date. There are two or three rather curi- 
ous indications that the miracle-play was known to Shake- 
speare, though this could hardly be, unless he read French. 
A rude version, also, of the story was published in a book 
called Westward for Smelts, and was entitled "The Tale 
told by the Fishwife of the Stand on the Green " ; placing 
the scene in England in the reign of Henry the Sixth, and 
making the persons all English. This, however, cannot be 
traced further back than the year 1620, and there is no like- 
lihood that the Poet had any knowledge of it. But the com- 
pletest form of the story is in one of Boccaccio's Novels, 
the Ninth of the Second Day, where we have the trunk used 
for conveying the villain into the lady's bedchamber, his dis- 
covery of a private mark on her person, and her disguise in 
male attire. As these incidents are not found in any other 
version of the tale, they seem to establish a connection 
between the novel and the play. Boccaccio is not known to 
have been accessible to the Poet in English ; but then it is 
quite probable, and indeed almost certain, that he was able 
to read Italian books in the original. The substance of the 
story is soon told. 

Several Italian merchants, meeting in Paris, went to talk- 
ing about their wives. All agreed in speaking rather dispar- 
agingly, except Bernabo, of Genoa, who said his wife was 
perfectly beautiful, in the flower of youth, and of unassaila- 
ble honour. At this, Ambrogiulo became very loose-spoken, 
boasting that he would spoil her honour, if opportunity were 
given him. The wager was then proposed and accepted. 
Going to Genoa, the intriguer soon found that Ginevra had 



IO CYMBELINE. 

not been overpraised, and that his wager would be lost 
unless he could prevail by some stratagem. So he man- 
aged to have his chest left in her keeping, and placed in her 
private chamber. When she was fast asleep, with a taper 
burning in the room, he crept from his hiding, made a sur- 
vey of the furniture, the pictures, and at last discovered a 
mole and a tuft of golden hair on her left breast. Then, 
taking a ring, a purse, and other trifles, he crept back into 
the chest. 

Returning to Paris, he called the company together and 
produced his proofs of success. Bernabo was convinced, 
and went to seeking revenge. Arriving near home, he sent 
for his wife, and gave secret orders to have her put to death 
on the road. The servant stopped in a lonely place, and 
told her of his master's orders ; she protested her innocence, 
and begged his compassion ; so he spared her life, and re- 
turned with some of her clothes, saying he had killed her. 
Ginevra then disguised herself in male attire, and got into 
the service of a gentleman who took her to Alexandria, 
where she gained the Sultan's favour, and was made captain 
of his guard. Not long after, she was sent with a band of 
soldiers to Acre, and there, going into the shop of a Vene- 
tian merchant, she saw a purse and girdle which she recog- 
nized as her own. On her asking whose they were, and 
whether they were for sale, Ambrogiulo stepped forth and 
said they were his, and asked her to accept them as a gift ; 
at the same time telling her they had been presented to him 
by a married lady of Genoa. Feigning pleasure at the tale, 
she pursuaded him to go with her to Alexandria. Her next 
care was to have her husband brought thither. Then she 
prevailed on the Sultan to force from Ambrogiulo a public 
recital of his villainy ; whereupon Bernabo owned that he 



INTRODUCTION. 1 1 

had caused his wife to be murdered. She now assures the 
Sultan that, if he will punish the villain and pardon Bernabo, 
the lady shall appear ; and on his agreeing to this she throws 
off her disguise, and declares herself to be Ginevra, and 
the mole on her breast soon confirms her word : Ambro- 
giulo is put to death, and all his wealth given to the lady : 
the Sultan makes her rich presents of jewels and money 
besides, and furnishes a ship in which she and Bernabo 
depart for Genoa. 

It may be gathered from this brief outline that in respect 
of character Imogen really has nothing in common with 
Ginevra. And indeed the Poet took none of his character 
from the novel, for this can hardly be said to have any thing 
of the kind to give ; its persons being used only for the 
sake of the story, which order is just reversed in the play. 
But the novel presented certain obvious points of popular 
interest : these the Poet borrowed as a framework of cir- 
cumstances to support his own original conceptions, evidently 
caring little for the incidents, as we care little for them, but 
in reference to this end. 

General Characteristics of the Play. 

I have spoken of the difficulty of classing Cymbeline, as 
it has too much of the tragic to be called a comedy, and 
yet not enough of it to be fairly ranked as a tragedy. Per- 
haps it may be taken as proof that the Gothic Drama, like 
the Gothic Architecture, is naturally capable of more variety 
than can be embraced within the ordinary rules of dramatic 
classification. Hazlitt describes it as a " dramatic romance" ; 
which description probably fits it as well as any that can 
be given. For it has just enough of historical or traditionary 



12 CYMBELINE. 

matter to give it something of a legendary character, while 
its general scope admits and even invites the freest playing- 
in of whatsoever is wild and wonderful and enchanting in 
old Romance. By throwing the scene back into the reign 
of a semi-fabulous king, the Poet was enabled to cast around 
the work an air of historical dignity, and yet frame the 
whole in perfect keeping with the deep, solemn, and all but 
tragic pathos in which it is keyed. A confusion of times, 
places, and manners, with the ceremonial of old mythology 
and the sentiments of Christian chivalry, the heroic deeds 
of earlier and the liberal ideas of later periods, all blended 
together without restraint and in the order merely of in- 
herent fitness, the play has indeed some improbable inci- 
dents ; yet the improbability is everywhere softened by 
distance, and even made grateful by the romantic sweetness, 
the sober wisdom, and the pathetic tenderness that spring 
up fresh and free in its course. All which may sufficiently 
account for the strong sentence some have put in against 
this play, and also for the equally strong and far wiser 
judgment of the poet Campbell, who regards it as " perhaps 
the fittest in Shakespeare's whole theatre to illustrate the 
principle, that great dramatic genius can occasionally ven- 
ture on bold improbabilities, and yet not only shrive the 
offence, but leave us enchanted with the offender." 

Schlegel pronounces Cymbeline " one of Shakespeare's 
most wonderful compositions." Few will deny that he has 
chosen the right word for the impression which the play 
leaves strongest in the mind. Several indeed surpass it in 
grandeur and vastness of design, but probably none in grace 
and power of execution. I cannot well conceive how a finer 
and more varied display of poetry and character could be 
reduced within the same compass. Except the vision and. 



INTIODUCTION. 1 3 

what pertains to it, in the fifth Act, of which I am to speak 
further presently, the most improbable of the incidents were, 
as we have seen, borrowed from general circulation, the story- 
having been cast into divers forms, and already fixed in the 
popular belief. The incidents being granted, Shakespeare's 
ordering of them to his use, the whole framing and managing 
of the plot so as to work out the result proposed, are ex- 
ceedingly skilful and judicious. Take, for instance, the 
circumstances of the King's two sons having their home 
with the noble old exile in the mountain- cave, and of the 
heroine straying thither in disguise, faint and weary, and 
entering the rock in quest of food and rest, and what follows 
in her intercourse with the princely boys ; — what could be 
more delightful, what more inspiring of truth and purity than 
all this ? Will any one say that the sweet home-breathings 
of Nature which consecrate these delectable scenes do not 
a thousand times make up for the strangeness of the inci- 
dents ? Of course the leading purpose of the play is to be 
sought for in the character of Imogen. Around this, how- 
ever, are ranged a number of subordinate purposes, running 
out into a large diversity of matter and person; yet all are 
set off with such artful blendings and transitions of light and 
shade, and grouped with such mastery of perspective and 
such picturesque effect, that every thing helps every other 
thing, and nothing seems out of place. 

It is to be noted, also, that the persons, for the most part, 
have each their several plot, and are all at cross-aims with 
one another, so that the ground-work of the drama presents 
little else than a tissue of counter-plottings. And all are 
thwarted in their turn, and, what is more, the final result is 
brought about by their defeat ; as if on purpose to illustrate 
again and again that men are not masters of their lot ; and 



14 CYMBELINE. 

that, while they are each intent on their several plans, a 
higher Power is secretly working out other plans through 
them. Accordingly, if the bad thrive for a while, it is that 
they may at last be the more effectually caught and crushed 
in their own toils ; if the good are at first cast down, it is 
that they may be uplifted in the end, and " happier much 
by their affliction made." And so, while the drama is brist- 
ling throughout with resolves and deeds, nevertheless all 
of them miscarry, all fail. It is the very prevalence, in part, 
of what we call chance over human design, that gives the 
work such a wild, romantic, and legendary character ; mak- 
ing the impression of some supernatural power putting to 
confusion the works of men, that its own agency may be 
the more manifest in the order that finally succeeds. 

Some Parts of it not Shakespeare's. 

The play, notwithstanding, has one very serious and de- 
cided blemish. I refer to that piece of dull impertinence 
in the fifth Act, including the vision of Posthumus while 
asleep in the prison, the absurd " label" found on his bosom 
when he awakes, and the Soothsayer's still more absurd 
interpretation of the label at the close. For nothing can 
well be plainer than that the whole thing is strictly irrel- 
evant : it does not throw the least particle of light on the 
character or motive of any person ; has indeed no business 
whatever with the action of the drama, except to hinder 
and embarrass it. This matter apart, the denouement is 
perfect, and the preparation for it made with consummate 
judgment and skill. And it is a noteworthy fact that, if 
the apparition, the dialogue that follows with the Jailer, 
the tablet, and all that relates to it, be omitted, there will 



INTRODUCTION. 1 5 

appear no rent, no loose stitch, nor any thing wanting to the 
completeness of the work. 

It is difficult to believe that Shakespeare wrote the pas- 
sages in question at any time ; impossible, that he did so at 
or near the time when the rest of the play was written. For 
I think every discerning student will perceive at once that 
the style of this matter is totally different from that of all the 
other parts. How, then, came it there ? Some consider it 
a relic of an older drama, perhaps one written by Shakespeare 
in his youth. But the more common opinion is, that it was 
foisted in by the players, the Poet himself having nothing to 
do with it. There is no doubt that such things were some- 
times done. Still I am inclined to think that it was supplied 
by some other hand at the time, and that the Poet himself 
worked it in with his own noble matter, perhaps to gratify a 
friend ; for he was a kind-hearted, obliging fellow, and prob- 
ably did not see the difference between his own workmanship 
and other men's as we do. At all events, I am sure it must 
have got into the play from motives that could have had no 
place with him as an artist. And how well the matter was 
adapted to catch the vulgar wonder and applause of that day, 
may be judged well enough from the thrift that waits on di- 
vers absurdities of the stage in our time. Doubtless, in his 
day, as in ours, there were many who, for the sake of this 
blemishing stuff, would tolerate the glories of the play. — All 
the lines which are judged to fall under this exception are 
here marked with asterisks. 

Imogen the Organic Force of the Play. 

In Shakespeare's characteristic plays (for some of his 
earlier ones proceeded rather from imitation than character) 
there is always some one governing thought or organic idea, 



l6 CYMBELINE. 

which serves, secretly perhaps, but not the less effectively, 
both as a centre of interest and as a law in the composition. 
This governing thought is often difficult, sometimes impossi- 
ble to be seized and defined ; a kind of corporate soul ; some- 
thing too " deeply interfused " to be done up in propositions, 
or expressed in logical forms. It is like the constitution of 
a State, which cannot be put into words, nor cribbed up in 
definitions ; a silent, unwritten law, which is nevertheless felt 
and obeyed, the more so, perhaps, that nobody can tell why : 
in fact, it is rather a social power than a law ; a power that 
governs men most when they are least aware of it. The old 
Greeks were acquainted with it, or something like it, under 
the name of " the omnipresent power of King Nomos." 
And in matters of art Criticism has often damaged both it- 
self and its subject by undertaking to make definitions of 
that which naturally is not capable of them. 

In Cymbeline the governing thought is more accessible to 
criticism than in most of its compeers ; the very complexity 
of the work having perhaps caused that thought to be em- 
phasized the more. For, varied as are the materials of the 
drama, there is notwithstanding a deep principle of inward 
harmony pervading them all, and binding them together in 
the strictest coherence. Gervinus, the German critic, was 
the first, I believe, who rightly apprehended this point. "We 
have only," says he, "to examine its several parts according 
to their internal nature, and refer to the motives, and we 
shall catch the idea which links them together, and perceive 
a work of art whose compass widens and whose background 
deepens in such a manner, that we can only compare it with 
the most excellent of all that Shakespeare has produced ! " 
This " idea," as Gervinus here calls it, has its clearest illus- 
tration in the heroine. Imogen is an impersonation of the 



INTUPDUCTION. I/ 

moral beauty of womanhood. This beauty is the vital cur- 
rent of the whole delineation, and every thing about her, her 
form, her features and expression, her dress, her walk, her 
speech, her every motion, all are steeped in its efficacy. Its 
leading development takes on the form of a calm, self- 
centred, immovable fidelity, all her other virtues coming 
out in the train of this. This virtue radiates from her into 
others, her presence acting as an inspiration of truth on 
most of those about her. Her husband is as strong in 
fidelity to her as she is to him : for it is observable that, while 
they each believe the other to be false, this belief never so 
much as tempts either with a thought of becoming so. They 
may be betrayed, but they will not betray. The same virtue 
shines out equally in their man Pisanio, whom the Queen 
rightly describes as " a sly and constant knave, not to be 
shaked." He deceives her indeed, or tries to do so, but 
only that he may be the truer where his obligations of truth 
are higher and more sacred. Nothing can start him from 
his fidelity. So too with the Court physician, Cornelius, 
who knows the Queen's character thoroughly, as he also does 
her feelings towards the Princess ; therefore he distrusts her, 
and his sharp practice in cheating her is all because he must 
and will be faithful to those against whom she is plotting. 
And the studied hypocrisy of the courtiers proceeds from 
the same cause : not a man of them, 

Although they wear their faces to the bent 
Of the King's looks, hath a heart that is not 
Glad at the thing they scowl at. 

Whatever else may happen to them, they cannot choose 
but be true to Imogen. Thus on all sides the heroine's 
truth begets truth, or finds it ; and the several instances of 



1 8 CYMBELINE. 

departure from it only serve to intensify it, and render it 
more pronounced. The Queen, to be sure, is deeply false, 
false to every thing but her son and her own ambition ; while 
the King is too weak, and Cloten too wayward, to be either 
false or true. Iachimo, too, begins a thorough-paced con- 
centration of falsehood ; but he learns a new lesson from 
Imogen, and catches a soul of truth in his interview with 
her, which proves a seed of life, and keeps working in him, 
till it brings him out quite another man. And these excep- 
tions, again, have the effect of emphasizing the leading 
thought by contrast, as the other instances just referred to 
do by reduplication. Finally, we have another issue of the 
same thing at bottom, in the stanch old manhood of Bela- 
rius. Many years back, two villains had falsely accused him 
to the King, who, preferring flattery to service, had there- 
upon stripped him of his possessions, and banished him. 
"Beaten for loyalty excited him to treason." In his first 
feeling of revenge, he caused the two infant Princes to be 
stolen from their nursery ; but he has ever since been doing 
his best to build them up in. all manly thoughts and virtues, 
that he might return them, as he does at last, far nobler men 
than court-breeding could have made them. Thus his fidel- 
ity approves itself the stronger and more fruitful in the end, 
for its temporary lapse ; and he serves the King most truly 
when excluded from his service. 

Character of Cymbeline. 

It is not very apparent why this play should be named as 
it is. For Cymbeline himself is but a cipher, having no 
value of his own, and all his value depending on what 
stands before him ; that is, he has no force but to augment 



INTRODUCTION. 19 

the force of somebody else. But his very impotence per- 
sonally renders him important dramatically ; that he has no 
spring in himself makes him in some sort the main- spring of 
the play. It was because he was weak that he drove Bela- 
rius into exile, and thus prepared one great source of wealth 
to the drama. It is for the same cause that he prefers the 
Queen's rickety, sputtering, blustering lump of flesh for his 
son-in-law, and banishes Posthumus, and withholds the 
Roman tribute. Therefore it is, too, that the Queen is able 
to hoodwink him so completely, that she feels safe in schem- 
ing against Imogen's life, and to that end gets the cordial 
which afterwards produces upon her the semblance of death. 
t Hence, also, Cloten, with his empty head and savage heart, 
is encouraged to that pitch of insolence which prompts the 
flight and disguise of Imogen, that she may have " no more 
ado with that harsh, noble, simple nothing, whose love-suit 
hath been to her as fearful as a siege." Thus the King's 
weakness proves the seed-plot of the entire action. So that 
I suspect the play is rightly named, though some have 
thought otherwise. 

It is curious to note how consistently the poor King main- 
tains, throughout, this character of weakness. We have a 
fine instance of it when he utters what is meant for a curse 
on his daughter, while he has not force enough really to 
make it such : " Let her languish a drop of blood a day, 
and, being aged, die of this folly." By "this folly," he 
means her love for Leonatus ; and she herself would ask no 
greater happiness than to die at a good old age of that. 
Compare this with old Lear's terrible imprecations on his 
unkind daughters, which seem to steep themselves right into 
the heart of their objects, poisoning and blasting the inner- 
most springs of life. Again, in the interview with the Roman 



20 CYMBELINE. 

Ambassador, the Queen and Cloten do the talking, the King 
merely echoing what they say, and thereby giving it the 
force of law. So too, when Cloten is off on his mad splurge 
of proposed murder and ravishment, and his mother's life is 
in danger with a fever of his absence, and the King finds a 
war on his hands, he is quite paralyzed, and has barely wit 
enough to deplore his want of wit : 

Now for the counsel of my son and Queen ! 
I am amazed with matter. 

He is indeed uxorious to the last degree, yet we cannot call 
him a henpecked husband, for he does not make resistance 
enough for that process. And the lords and courtiers never 
think of blaming him for any thing that is done ; in fact, 
they hardly respect him enough for that. But they know 
that the Queen has him perfectly under her thumb, and that 
he sees only with her eyes, and acts only as she plans. And 
the dotage sticks to him like a chronic disease. On being 
told how the Queen has been practising against Imogen's 
life and his own, that she might work her sprawling hopeful 
into the adoption of the crown ; and how, failing of this, 
she 

Grew shameless-desperate ; open'd in despite 
Of Heaven and men her purposes ; repented 
The evils she hatch'd were not effected, so, 
Despairing, died ; — 

still he cannot muster force enough to blame his weakness, 
but hugs it with the reflection, 

Mine eyes 
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful ; 
Mine ears, that heard her flattery ; nor my heart, 
That thought her like her seeming : it had been vicious 
To have mistrusted her. 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

Nor does he learn any thing by experience, his own or any- 
body's else ; even his acknowledged blunders only strengthen 
his habit of blundering. Accordingly, at the close, when the 
missing Cloten is inquired for, and Pisanio relates how he 
had posted away, " with unchaste purpose, and with oath to 
violate my lady's honour," and the heroic youth frankly de- 
clares how and why he has killed the arrogant booby ; still 
the King, with his mind all imprisoned in regal formulas, 
and losing the plainest principles of right in a mere literal 
legality, insists on condemning the valiant stranger to death ; 
from which he is diverted by the assurance that the youth is 
his own son. 

Character of the Queen. 

Cymbeline's character is further explained by that of the 
Queen, who rules, or rather misrules him. Her darling by 
a former husband she has set her heart upon matching with 
the Princess, who is expected to succeed her father in the 
kingdom : yet she seeks the match not so much from love 
of the poor clod as from a thirst of power, and partly be- 
cause he is a clod, whom she thinks to manage, and thus 
secure her tenure of power. To this end, she has made the 
Court a place of incessant intrigue and machination, though 
in a rather small way. But she defeats her own shrewdness 
by overdoing it ; like those overcrafty politicians whose ex- 
cess of art and mystery renders them objects of suspicion 
and distrust. For she really deceives hardly any one ex- 
cept him who has most interest in not being deceived. The 
Princess understands her perfectly ; and all her schemes are 
shattered in pieces against Imogen's firm, but quiet and 
unobtrusive discreetness. The courtiers hate and despise 
and fear the woman all at once ; for they know both her 



22 CYMBELINE. 

malice and her cunning, and that if they openly cross her 
she will point her shafts against them, and at the same time 
screen herself behind the irresponsibility of the crown. 
They therefore smile as the King smiles, and frown as he 
frowns, because they know that his smiles and frowns ex- 
press not his own moods, but the Queen's. Thus her ad- 
vantage over them explains the smooth dissimulation with 
which they parry her mischief. But their thoughts of her 
and her son come out, sometimes in their private talk, some- 
times in pointed asides. At the close of a brief scene with 
Cloten, one of them soliloquizes the common feeling thus : 

That such a crafty devil as his mother 
Should yield the world this ass ! a woman that 
Bears all down with her brain ; and this her son 
Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart, 
And leave eighteen. — Alas, poor Princess, 
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endurest, 
Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd, 
A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer 
More hateful than the foul expulsion is 
Of thy dear husband ! The Heavens hold firm 
The walls of thy dear honour ; keep unshaked 
That temple, thy fair mind ! 

Prince Cloten. 

The delineation of Cloten is very rich and full ; partly in 
what he fumes or rattles out of himself, partly in the com- 
ments that are made about him. To the lords attending 
him, he is " a thing too bad for bad report." Yet in his 
presence they treat him with suppressed laughter and ironi- 
cal praise ; for he stirs no feeling in them so deep as wrath 
or even scorn. When he draws his sword on the banished 
Leonatus, the latter merely plays with him while seeming to 



INTR(^DUCTION. 23 

fight, and does not allow so much as his patience to be hurt ; 
for he knows the poor roll of conceit will attribute his con- 
duct to fear, and so think himself " alike conversant in gen- 
eral services, and more remarkable in single oppositions." 
Imogen bears his persecutions with calm patience, till he lets 
off an insolent strain of abuse against her exiled husband : 
then she quickly gives him enough, at the same time regret- 
ting that he puts her to " forget a lady's manners by being 
so verbal " ; for she would rather he felt what she thinks of 
him "than make it her boast." But the shrewdest notes of 
him are from old Belarius when Cloten intrudes upon his 
mountain-home. Belarius has not seen him since he was a 
boy,- but there is no mistaking him ; in his case, at least, 
the man was bound to be just like the boy, only more so : 
discipline could do nothing for him : 

Long is it since I saw him, 
But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour 
Which then he wore ; the snatches in his voice, 
And burst of speaking, were as his. 

Being scarce made up, 
I mean, to man, he had not apprehension 
Of roaring terrors ; for the act of judgment 
Is oft the cause of fear. 

Though his humour 
Was nothing but mutation, — ay, and that 
From one bad thing to worse ; not frenzy, not 
Absolute madness could so far have raved, 
To bring him here alone. 

These sharp sentences touch the marrow of the subject. 

Cloten, indeed, is a very notable instance of a man or a 
thing, with not merely a loose screw in the gearing, but with 
all the screws loose. He has often reminded me of Scott's 
description of Desborough in Woodstock : " His limbs 



24 CYMBEL1NE. 

seemed to act upon different and contradictory principles. 
They were not, as the play says, in a concatenation accord- 
ingly : the right hand moved as if it were on bad terms 
with the left, and the legs showed an inclination to foot it 
in different and opposite directions." Precisely so it is with 
Cloten's mind. There are the materials of a man in him, 
but they are not made up : his whole being seems a mass 
of unhingement, disorder, and jumble, full of unaccountable 
jerks and spasms ; the several parts of him being at incura- 
ble odds one with another, each having a will and a way of 
its own, so that no two of them can pull together. Hence 
the ludicrous unfitness of all that he does, and most that he 
speaks. He has indeed some gift of practical shrewdness, 
is not without flashes of strong and ready sense ; yet even 
these, through his overweening self-importance of rank and 
place, only serve to invest him all the more with the air of a 
conceited, blustering, consequential blockhead. For instance, 
in the scene with the Ambassador, he says, referring to Julius 
Caesar, " There is no more such Caesars : other of them may 
have crooked noses ; but to own such straight arms, none " ; 
where the pith of his ungeared and loose-screwed genius 
goes right to the mark, though it goes off out of time. It is 
curious to observe how in this scene his vein of sententious 
remark has the effect to heighten the ridiculousness of his 
character, from the St.-Vitus'-dance of mind through which 
it comes sprawling out. Therewithal he is rude, coarse, 
boisterous, vain, insolent, ambitious, malignant. Thus ren- 
dered ludicrous by whatever is best in him, and frightful by 
whatever is not ludicrous ; savage in feeling, awkward in 
person, absurd in manners, — a — sputtering jolt-head ; — he 
is of course the last man that any lady of sense or sensibility 
could be brought to endure. His calling Imogen an " im- 



INTRODUCTION. 25 

perceiverant thing," for not appreciating his superiority to 
Posthumus in the qualities that invite a lady's respect and 
affection, aptly illustrates the refined irony with which the 
character is drawn. 

Cloten was for a long time considered unnatural. But it 
is nowise unlikely that Shakespeare may have met with pro- 
totypes of him in his observation of English lordlings and 
squires. Miss Seward, in one of her letters, describes a 
military captain whom she once knew ; from which it seems 
that the character was not wholly obsolete in her time : 
"The unmeaning frown, the shuffling gait, the bustling in- 
significance, the fever-and-ague fits of valour, the froward 
techiness, the unprincipled malice, and, what is most curious, 
the occasional gleams of good sense amid the floating clouds 
of folly which generally darkened and confused the man's 
brain " ; — in all this, says she, " I saw the portrait of Cloten 
was not out of nature." And Gervinus speaks of it as " a 
lasting type of the man of rank and privileges, who has 
grown up in nothingness, and been trained in self-conceit." 



The Libertine. 

Iachimo is a sort of diluted Iago. And I am not sure 
but the Poet may have meant to intimate as much by the 
name : for Iachimo sounds to me like Iago with the intellec- 
tual hell-starch washed out. For we can hardly conceive of 
Iago's being penetrated by the moral beauty even of an 
Imogen. At the beginning of the play, Iachimo is in that 
condition where it may be justly said, 

The wise gods seel our eyes ; make us 
Adore our errors ; laugh at us, while we strut 
To our confusion. 



26 CYMBELINE. 

Like others of his class, he prides himself upon those arts in 
which he has probably had but too much success. Yet his 
conduct proceeds not so much from positive depravity of 
heart as because, either from lack of opportunity, or else 
from stress of youthful impulse, his conversations have not 
been with good company : or, to speak with more exactness, 
his atheism of womanly truth and honour is because he 
really has not met with them, while, again, his not meeting 
with them is because his tastes have not led him where they 
were to be found. Of course such men delight in making 
others do that for which they may scorn and revile them : 
hence their instincts guide them to frailty, and frailty in turn 
stuffs them with an opinion of their own strength. For it 
scarce need he said that this sort of conceit commonly grows 
by feeding on such experiences as are to be gained among 
those who dwell at or near the confines of virtue and shame. 
Thus we find Iachimo at first in just that stage of moral 
sickness that he must be worse before he can be better. 
Accordingly his next step consists in adding lying to liber- 
tinism, black perfidy to sensual intrigue. And it is a note- 
worthy point, that he is all along doubtful of success : per- 
haps the hero's calmness of tone and bearing has planted 
this doubt in him : at all events, he manifestly apprehends 
failure, and so has an alternative ready in case he fail. So 
that his forging of proofs is deliberate and premeditated ; 
he has been prepared for it from the start. In his present 
enterprise he gets a new experience. At the first sight of 
Imogen, he is struck with unaccustomed fear ; his instincts 
are not at home there ; and he exclaims, " Boldness, be my 
friend ! arm me, audacity, from head to foot ! " He soon 
has need of all the strength he can muster in that kind. 
He has much difficulty in making her understand his drift ; 



INTlfODUCTION. 2J 

but, the moment she is sure of his meaning, her whole soul 
kindles into an overpowering energy of indignant astonish- 
ment. For the first and only time she uses the language and 
the gesture of stern insulted majesty, and with one blow of 
her tongue shatters his armour of audacity all in pieces. 
That she manifestly had never so much as imagined the pos- 
sibility of such an assault, puts a second assault utterly out 
of the question : the villain has no stomach to try that game 
further ; dare not even think of it. But, though her light- 
ning instantly burns up his sensual thoughts, still it does not 
quite disconcert his address ; he has studied his alternative 
part too well for that. 

We see the effect of this interview already working upon 
him in the bedchamber-scene, and in what he soliloquizes 
over the sleeping Princess. Low-minded libertine as he is, 
her presence at once charms and chastens him. There he 
has a second inspiration of truth and manhood, deeper than 
the first : his thoughts catch the delicacy and purity of their 
object ; and he dare not utter a foul word even to himself. 
His description of the sleeper would almost redeem him in 
our eyes, but that we know the grace of it comes not from 
him, but from her through him ; and we regard it as some- 
thing that must be divine indeed, not to be strangled in pass- 
ing through such a medium. How thoroughly her sweet- 
ness chastises the gross devil in him, is piercingly indicated 
by his closing words : 

Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning 
May bare the raven's eye ! I lodge in fear ; 
Though this a heavenly angel, Hell is here. 

From this time forward, we feel morally certain that he 
never again tampers with a woman's honour. Our next 



28 CYMBELINE. 

news of him is in connection with the gentlemen of Italy, 
who " promise noble service under the conduct of bold 
Iachimo." What it is that draws him back to Britain to 
face the perils of war, appears when Posthumus, disguised as 
a peasant, encounters him in the battle, "vanquisheth and 
disarmeth him, and then leaves him" : 

The heaviness and guilt within my bosom 
Takes off my manhood : I've belied a lady, 
The Princess of this country, and the air on't 
Revengingly enfeebles me ; or could this carl, 
A very drudge of Nature's, have subdued me 
In my profession? 

Here we learn how, by the laws of moral reaction, the un- 
accustomed awe of virtue which Imogen struck into him 
has grasped him. the more firmly, and kept working in him 
all the more powerfully, for the dreadful wrong he has done 
her. He does not recognize Posthumus ; but an evil con- 
science attributes to his own sin what is really owing to the 
superior strength and skill of the conquering arm. And his 
inward history is told with still more emphasis in the last 
scene, when he discovers himself, and speaks of " that para- 
gon for whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits 
quail to remember." 

Thus the character illustrates Shakespeare's peculiar sci- 
ence and learned dealing in the moral constitution of man. 
In Iachimo's practice on the wager his disease reaches the 
extreme point, which, even because it is extreme, starts a 
process of moral revolution within him ; setting him to a 
hard diet of remorse and repentance, and conducting him 
through these to renovation and health. It is, in short, one 
of those large over-doses of crime which sometimes have 
the effect of purging off men's criminality. For such is the 



INTRODUCTION. 29 

cunning leech-craft of Nature : out of men's vices she can 
hatch scorpions, to lash and sting them into virtue. 

Delineation of Pisanio. 

Those who think Shakespeare apt to postpone the rights 
of untitled manhood in favour of conventional aristocracy 
may be sent to school to Pisanio ; who is, socially, the 
humblest person in the drama, yet his being is "all com- 
pact" of essential heroism. It is fairly questionable whether 
he has not as much of noble stuff in him, as much inward 
adornment and worth of character, as the hero himself. 
Nor does the Poet stint him of opportunity ; but gives him 
an immediate partnership in the deepest interest of the 
play, and makes him share in the honour of the best charac- 
ters, by his sympathy with them, and his self-sacrificing 
love and service to them. And, what is very strange, this 
is done with most effect in an instance where the man does 
not himself appear. For, as soon as Imogen understands 
Iachimo's proposal, the first thing she does is to call out, 
"What, ho, Pisanio !" as if she felt assured that this faith- 
ful guardian would instantly physic the devil out of the 
wretch who has thus dared to insult her ; and she keeps on 
calling him, till the insult is withdrawn, and a satisfactory 
reason for it assigned. 

With a fine instinct of rectitude, which pierces deeper 
perhaps than the keenest sagacity, Pisanio never misses the 
right, and never falters in his allegiance to it. His fidelity 
is tried to the utmost on all sides, but nothing so much 
as'tempts him from it. After the Queen has plied him with 
offers of wealth and honours, he gives us his mind aside : 

But, when to my good lord I prove untrue, 
I'll choke myself: there's all I'll do for you. 



30 CYMBELINE. 

When Cloten worries him from point to point with threats 
and bribes, at last, to save his own life, he counterfeits a 
make-believe of yielding, but only that he may send the 
poor wretch off on a fool's errand, and to reap a fool's re- 
ward. And, if he becomes false to his master, it is only 
when and because he knows his master has become false to 
himself. The order from Posthumus to murder his mistress 
is the hardest trial of all; yet his resolution is instantly 
taken : " If it be so to do good service, never let me be 
counted serviceable." Imogen makes one mistake in regard 
to her husband : when her eyes have been stabbed with the 
"damn'd paper," her faith in him lapses into the heresy 
that "some jay of Italy, whose mother was her painting, 
hath betray'd him." But the sorrowing servant keeps his 
faith unshaken, and at once divines the true cause of the 
monstrous charge : 

It cannot be but that my master is abused : 
Some villain, ay, and singular in his art, 
Hath done you both this cursed injury. 

The pressure of duty on this nobleman in livery always 
makes the path light before him. He does indeed get mys- 
tified at last ; but this is because he no longer has any thing 
to do : in the lack of work, and of information whereon to 
act, he becomes perplexed ; but still retains his confidence 
in the providential safety of the good, and soothes his anxie- 
ties with the reflection, " Fortune brings in some boats that 
are not steer'd." His whole course shows not one self- 
regarding purpose or thought : he alone seems to live arfd 
breathe purely for others. And what shrewdness, what fore- 
cast, what fertility of beneficence there is in him ! His 
character is lifted into the highest region of poetry by his 



INTRODUCTION. 3 1 

oblivion of self ; and even those whom he serves derive 
much of their poetry from his disinterested and uncorrupti- 
ble loyalty to them. For there is no stronger testimonial of 
worth than the free allegiance of such a manly soul. 

I must add, that the best idea we get of Imogen at any 
one time is when Pisanio unconsciously describes her to 
herself : 

You must forget to be a woman ; change 
Command into obedience; fear and niceness — 
The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, 
Woman its pretty self — into a waggish courage ; 
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and 
As quarrellous as the weasel ; nay, you must 
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, 
Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart ! 
Alack, no remedy !) to the greedy touch 
Of common-kissing Titan ; and forget 
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein 
You made great Juno angry. 

In this delicious little bundle of poetry he gives both the 
obverse and the reverse of Imogen's character ; yet neither 
of them sees it : for indeed her beauty so pervades his inner 
man, and circulates in his mental blood, that he cannot 
open his mouth to speak of woman, but that she fills it. 

Character of the Hero. 

The organization of the play evidently required that Post- 
humus should be kept mostly in the background ; since, 
otherwise, he would have to stay beside Imogen ■; in which 
case he could not be cheated out of his faith in her, and so 
there would be no chance for the trial and proof of her con- 
stancy. Hence the necessity of putting so much respecting 
him into the mouths of the other persons ; and certainly 



32 CYMBELINE. 

their tongues are rich enough in his praise. The first scene, 
which is in substance a prologue to the action, is chiefly 
devoted to this purpose. There we learn that the hero, 
sprung of truly heroic stock, was left an orphan from the 
time of his birth : 

The King he takes the babe, 
Breeds him, and makes him of his bedchamber ; 
Puts to him all the learnings that his time 
Could make him the receiver of; which he took, 
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd, and 
In's spring became a harvest ; lived in Court, — 
Which rare it is to do — most praised, most loved; 
A sample to the youngest ; to the more mature 
A glass that feated them ; and to the graver 
A child that guided dotards. 

Thus he has grown up the foster-brother and playfellow of 
the Princess ; and their love, rooted in the innocence of 
childhood, and twining with all their childish thoughts and 
studies and pleasures, has ripened with their growth; and 
now appears a calm, deep, earnest thing, the settled habit 
of their souls, and not a recent visitation. And, when he 
urges her and she consents to a secret marriage, this is done 
in no transport of passion, but in the soberness of deliberate 
judgment and wisdom, to protect her and in her the State 
against the intriguing malice of the Queen and the splurg- 
ing violence and incapacity of her son. Nor does the act 
involve any undutifulness to the King ; for they both know 
that he is not his own man, and that he would be foremost 
in approving the match, but for the spell that keeps him 
from himself : in a word, it is not paternal right, but nover- 
cal machination that they cross and thwart. And, that we 
may rest assured that this is no self-deluding fancy of theirs, 
all are represented as secretly glad at what has been done, 
except those who have none but mean and selfish reasons for 



INTRODUCTION. 33 

impugning it. So that the marriage is really no breach of 
their characteristic faithfulness on either side. As for Imo- 
gen, she has weighed well both her father's rights and the 
counsels of reason, as she also has her own rights and the 
honour of the crown : she " chose an eagle, and did avoid a 
puttock." Her firm conscientiousness in the matter comes 
out decisively in what she says after bitter experience of the 
King's anger : 

My dearest husband, 
I something fear my father's wrath ; but nothing — 
Always reserved my holy duty — what 
His rage can do on me. You must be gone ; 
And I shall here abide the hourly shot 
Of angry eyes ; not comforted to live, 
But that there is this jewel in the world, 
That I may see again. 

Such is the hero's form of character as expressed or in- 
ferred in the opening scenes. It was no easy thing to carry 
him through the part assigned him in the play, without dis- 
crediting the claims thus advanced. And the Poet clearly 
meant that Imogen's wisdom as approved in other things 
should stand to us a pledge of his worth; that "by her 
election should be truly read what kind of man he is." And 
not the least of Shakespeare's merits as an artist is the skill 
he has in making his characters so utter themselves as at the 
same time to mirror each other. In this instance, being 
forced to withdraw Posthumus from our immediate view, 
or else to set him before us in a somewhat unfavourable 
light, the best thing he could do was to give us a reflection 
of him from Imogen, and to reinforce her opinion by the 
free suffrage of other parties. And surely it were something 
bold in any man to wage his own judgment against hers in 
a matter of this kind ; for, as Campbell says, " she hallows 



34 CYMBELINE. 

to the imagination every thing that loves her, and that she 
loves in return." 

Still one is apt to suspect that the man's high credit with 
Imogen and others is partly owing to the presence of such 
a foil as Cloten. And the grounds of complaint against him 
are two : first, his entering into the wager and encouraging 
the trial of his wife ; second, his bloody purpose of revenge 
and his scheme for effecting it. 

In regard to the first, he meets the insinuating freebooter 
in the company of well-reputed friends and under the roof 
of his honourable host, where he is bound by the laws of 
good-breeding to presume him worthy, and to treat him with 
respect. Then it is a high point of honour with him not to 
tolerate such low-thoughted and light-hearted petulance in 
his presence. Womanhood is to him a sacred thing : the 
whole course of his life has been such as to inspire him with 
the most chivalrous delicacy towards the sex : for his mother's 
sake and his own, but, above all, for Imogen's, the blood 
stirs within him, to hear woman made the theme of profane 
and scurrilous talk : the stale slander of libertine tongues his 
noble sensitiveness instinctively resents as the worst possible 
affront to himself. We have Iachimo's subsequent voucher 
for it, that during their conversation " he was as calm as 
virtue," guiding his words with discretion, as well as utter- 
ing them with spirit j and, withal, that " he was too good to 
be where ill men were, and was the best of all amongst the 
rarest of good ones." It is to be noted further, that he 
shows no purpose of accepting the wager, till the villain most 
adroitly hints that his reluctance springs from some lurking 
doubt of the lady's firmness ; his very religion being thus 
entrapped into an allowance of the trial. And he rests in 
perfect, confidence that the result will not only vindicate the 



INTRODUCTION. 35 

honour of the sex, but give him the right to call the man to 
account for his impudent and impious levity. The worst, 
then, we can say of him on this point is, that, like the noble 
Kent in King Lear, he " had more man than wit about him." 
But this, I opine, should rather augment our love than abate. 
our respect. 

I believe no one questions the sufficiency of Iachimo's 
proofs. The impartial Philario is convinced, and so are all 
the rest. And we have a shrewd approval of their judg- 
ment in what the Princess says on missing the bracelet 
from her arm : " I hope it be not gone to tell my lord that 
I kiss aught but him." Posthumus does not indeed suspect 
any lying and treachery in the business, and it would hardly 
be to his credit if he did. It is not in his nature nor in his 
principles to be any thing by halves. And his very fulness 
of confidence at first renders him the more liable to the 
reverse in the contingency that is to arrive : because he is 
perfectly sure that no proofs of success can be shown, there- 
fore, when some such are shown, he falls the more readily 
into the opposite state. And this, undoubtedly, is in the 
right line of nature. For to shake the confidence of such a 
man in such a case, is to invert it all into distrust at once. 

As to his rash and cruel scheme of revenge, what I have 
to say here is, that the best thing any man can do is, not to 
sin ; the next best, when he has sinned, to repent. And it 
will do us no hurt to consider that the crown of all heroism 
in man or woman is repentance, so it be of the right sort. 
Now Posthumus does repent, — repents most nobly and 
heroically ; keeping his repentance entirely to himself, and 
never giving the least hint of it to any person, till he has 
an opportunity to show it by " doing works meet for repent- 
ance." For an ostentatious repentance is only a replacing 



2,6 CYMBELINE. 

of one bad thing by a worse. No sooner does our hero 
receive the counterfeit token of his order having been per- 
formed, than his memory begins to be panged for what he 
has done. Revenge gives way wholly to pity and remorse. 
He forgets the wrong he seems to have suffered, in the 
wrong he has done. Even granting the worst that he has 
been led to think, still he has no room but for grief that he 
did not leave the erring one a chance for the same " godly 
sorrow" with which his own heart is now exercised : 

You married ones, 
If each of you should take this course, how many 
Must murder wives much better than themselves ! 

Gods! if you 
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never 
Had lived to put on this : so had you saved 
The noble Imogen to repent ; and struck 
Me, wretch more worth your vengeance. 

Henceforth he only studies to burn into his soul the bitter 
remembrance of his own ill. And in this process personal 
and patriotic feelings work together. For the wrong he has 
done to Imogen is not all : he seems to have wronged his 
country still more, in putting out the light of its dearest 
hopes, " the expectancy and rose of the fair State." Weary 
of life, he enlists into the army levied against Britain. Once 
more upon his native soil, he will do what he can to make 
amends : 

I am brought hither 
Among 1h' Italian gentry, and to fight 
Against my lady's kingdom : 'tis enough 
That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress; peace! 
I'll give no wound to thee. — I'll disrobe me 
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself 
As does a Briton peasant: so I'll fight 
Against the part I come with ; so I'll die 



INTRODUCTION. 37 

For thee, O Imogen ! even for whom my life 
Is, every breath, a death : and thus, unknown, 
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril 
Myself I'll dedicate. 

And how nobly the effect of all this inward discipline is 
pronounced at the close ! Our hero has had enough of 
revenge : no more of that for him. He can easier pardon 
even Iachimo's crime than his own. And so, when the re- 
formed rake sinks on his knee, and begs him, "Take that 
life which I so often owe " ; he replies, 

Kneel not to me : 
The power that I have on you is to spare you ; 
The malice towards you to forgive you : live, 
And deal with others better. 

Such is the liberal redemption with which the character of 
Posthumus is crowned in the latter part of the play. And 
if he, a Pagan, could so feel the sweetness of mercy, I think 
we Christians should not feel it less. — Posthumus is secretly 
noble ; and that is nobleness indeed ! 



The Heroine. 

Imogen is the peer of Cordelia and Hermione and Per- 
dita and Miranda ; though at the same time as different 
from them all as any two of them are from each other. 
Other of Shakespeare's heroines are equal to her in the 
conception, but none of them is carried out with such sus- 
tained force and wealth of development : she is the circle 
and aggregate of eloquent womanhood, and we are given 
to see and feel all that she is. For, as Gervinus remarks, 
" she is, next to Hamlet, the most fully-drawn character of 
Shakespeare's poetry." Perhaps she does not touch the 



lkr+- 









38 CYMBELINE. 

imagination quite so enchantingly as Miranda, nor the heart 
quite so deeply as Cordelia ; but she goes near to make up 
the account by combining, as far as seems possible, the 
interest of both. 

Already a wife when we first see her, Imogen acts but little 
in any other quality ; yet in this one she approves herself the 
mistress of all womanly perfections, such as would make glad 
the heart and life of whoever stood in any relationship with 
her. That her attractions may appear the more as in her- 
self, not in the feelings of others, that is, in her character, 
not in her sex, the latter is part of the time hidden from 
those about her : yet without any of the advantages that 
would arise from its being known what she is ; disrobed of 
all the poetry and religion with which every right-minded 
man invests the presence of womanhood ; still she kindles a 
deep, holy affection in every one that meets with her. 
Hazlitt, with much liveliness but more perversity of criticism, 
says, " Posthumus is only interesting from the interest she 
takes in him, and she is only interesting herself from her tender- 
ness and constancy to her husband." If this be true, how 
is it that she so wins and wears the hearts of those who sus- 
pect not what she is ? Why should wise and reverend man- 
hood exclaim at sight of her, " Behold divineness no elder 
than a boy ! " In truth, the " sweet, rosy lad," and the 
"page so kind, so duteous-diligent," is hardly less interest- 
ing, though in a different sort, than the lady, the princess, 
and the wife. But is it to us, and not to the other persons of 
the drama, that " she is only interesting from her tenderness 
and constancy to her husband"? Nay, much of the inter- 
est we take in her as a woman and a wife springs from the 
feelings kindled in others towards her as a sad, sweet, lovely 
boy. Indeed, so far from just is Hazlitt's remark, that there 



i 

INTRODUCTION. 39 

is no character in Shakespeare more apt to inspire one with 
the sentiment, 

What joy to hear thee, and to see ! 
Thy elder brother I would be, 
Thy father, any thing to thee. 

I have noted what it is that leads in the transpiration of 
Imogen's character. But, observe, hers is a fidelity not only 
of person to person, but of person to truth and right. Her 
moral delicacy shrinks from the least atom of untruth. This 
is touchingly shown when Lucius finds her weeping upon the 
headless trunk of Cloten, which, being dressed in her hus- 
band's clothes, she mistakes for his : she gives Richard du 
Champ as the name of her slain master, and then says aside, 
" If I do lie, and do no harm by it, though the gods hear, I 
hope they'll pardon it." We have already seen how, in the 
case of Iachimo, her moral beauty " creates a soul under the 
ribs of death." The Queen, too, hard-faced tyrant as she is, 
and so skilled to " tickle where she wounds," cannot choose 
but soften towards her : " She's a lady so tender of rebukes, 
that words are strokes, and strokes death to her." Even to 
the dull Cloten, " from every one the best she hath, and she, 
of all compounded, outsells them all." And when she asks 
the Roman General to take her into his service as a page : 
" Ay, good youth ; and rather father thee than master thee." 
To old Belarius, when he returns with his youthful compan- 
ions, and finds her in the cave : " But that it eats our victuals, 
I should think here were a fairy." — " By Jupiter, an angel ! 
or, if not, an earthly paragon ! " And to the noble lads : 
"How angel-like he sings ! " — "But his neat cookery ! he 
cut our roots in characters, and sauced our broths, as Juno 
had been sick and he her dieter." — "Nobly he yokes a 
smiling with a sigh ; as if the sigh was that it was for not 



4-0 CYMBELINE. 

being such a smile." And her father, when all are together, 
and their troubles over : 

Posthumus anchors upon Imogen ; 
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye 
On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting 
Each object with a joy. 

But it is needless to dwell upon, impossible to exhaust, the 
beauty of this delineation. The whole play is full of the 
divinest poetry, and it is nearly all inspired by the heroine, 
except what she herself utters and is. 

Imogen has all the intelligence of Portia in The Merchant 
of Venice, without any of Portia's effort or art. Portia always 
tries to be wise, and always succeeds ; Imogen succeeds at 
least as well without trying : and her wisdom is better than 
Portia's inasmuch as, springing rather from nature than from 
reflection, it comes forth so freely that she never thinks of it 
herself. Then too her strength of intellect hides itself in del- 
icacy ; her variety and amplitude of mind in the exquisite 
grace and symmetry of all the parts. And how delightfully 
her mental action hovers in what may be called the border- 
land of instinct and consciousness, or of intuition and dis- 
course ! so that we are often at a loss whether it is she that 
speaks, or Nature that speaks through her. Clearness of 
understanding, depth and purity of feeling, simplicity and 
harmony of character, and the whole complexion made 
eloquent with perfect inward freshness and health, — ■ such 
is this most Shakespearian structure of womanhood. Hence, 
while she always takes care that her thoughts and deeds be 
handsome and right, — hence the charming unconcernedness 
with which she leaves the event to take care of itself. 

Imogen is as spirited, withal, as she is intelligent, when- 
ever duty bids or permits her to be so. Her anger is hard 



INTI#3DUCTI0N. 41 

indeed to arouse, but woe to the man that does arouse it. 
Notwithstanding her sharp trials and vexations, though pur- 
sued by cunning malice and " sprighted by a fool," the calm 
sweetness of her temper is ruffled but twice, and this is 
when duty to herself and her husband requires it. In both 
cases her anger is like a flash of lightning, brief, but sure. 
Not even Cloten's iron stomach is proof against her scorch- 
ing strokes, when her spirit is up. And she is all the more 
beautiful that she knows how to be terrible. 

Of her disguise we take no thought, because she takes 
none. In this behalf, however, the Poet is very careful of 
her, bringing her in contact with none but the honourable 
and holy Lucius, and the tender and reverential dwellers in 
the cave, where her modesty is in no peril from the familiar- 
ity of those who believe her to be what she seems ; other- 
wise her sensitive feminine delicacy would be almost sure to 
discover her. But, as it is, she shows no fear and makes no 
effort, either, like Rosalind, lest she betray her sex to others, 
or, like Viola, lest she wrong it to herself : .all its proprieties 
are indeed preserved ; yet she seems no more conscious 
of doing this than of the circulation of her blood. Her 
thoughts and feelings are intent on other matters ; and such 
is her command of our sympathies, that for the time being 
she empties our minds of every thing but what . is in her 
own. And it is much the same with her personal beauty : 
we never think of it at all save when others are speaking of 
it. And the reason seems to be, partly because she wears it 
so unconsciously herself, partly because, when she is before 
us, the radiance of her person is quenched in that of her 
mind and character; she so fills the inner eye, that what 
touches the outer is scarce heeded more than if it were not. 

We can hardly say that Imogen is made any better by her 



42 CYMBELINE. 

trials and sufferings, for she seems just the same at the first 
as at the last. But hers is the far nobler part to suffer that 
others may be made better : for herself she seems to have 
needed no such discipline, but others needed that she should 
have it; and we have seen how her sufferings work the 
redemption of her principal wrongers. Need I add how 
divinely the Poet has woven into the texture of this deline- 
ation the profoundly Christian idea that the truly miserable 
person is not the sufferer but the doer of wrong? 



Belarius and the Princes. 

In the two Princes the Poet again shows his preference 
of the innate to the acquired ; if indeed one may venture 
to affirm what is due to nature, and what to art, in a place 
where have fallen the instructions of the veteran sage and 
hero whom they call father. From the lips of old Belarius 
they have drunk in the lore of wisdom and virtue : all their 
nobler aptitudes have been fed and nourished alike by the 
stories of his life and by the influences of their mountain- 
home. What they hear from him makes them desire to be 
like him when they are old ; and this desire prompts them 
to go where he has been, see what he has seen, and do as 
he has done. So that all his arguments for keeping them 
withdrawn from the world are refuted by his own character ; 
they cannot rest away from the scenes where such treasures 
grow. He tells them, 

The gates of monarchs 
Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet through, 
And keep their impious turbans on, without 
Good morrow to the Sun : 

he warns them that this life 



INTRODUCTION. 43 

Is nobler than attending for a check ; 
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk : 

he assures them that for twenty years 

Here he has lived at honest freedom ; paid 
More pious debts to Heaven than in all 
The fore-end of his time : 

still they cannot but believe that the seed, which has ripened 
up into a wisdom so august and tender and sweet, was sown 
in him, as indeed it was, before he came there. The wealth 
of experience in him and the wealth of nature in them are 
both equally beautiful in their way, both equally becoming 
in their place ; and if they have been to him the best of 
materials to work upon, he has also been to them the best 
of workmen. And yet the old man, glorious in his humility, 
imputes to their royal blood the high and heroic thoughts 
which his own great and childlike spirit has breathed into 
them : 

O thou goddess, 
Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st 
In these two princely boys ! They are as gentle 
As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, 
Not wagging his sweet head ; and yet as rough, 
Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest wind, 
That by the top doth take the mountain pine, 
And make him stoop to th' vale. 'Tis wonderful 
That an invisible instinct should frame them 
To royalty unlearn'd; honour untaught; 
Civility not seen from other ; valour, 
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop 
As if it had been sow'd. 

The Poet had no occasion to discriminate these young 
gentlemen very sharply, still on close inspection we ea*l see 
that they are by no means duplicates. The eMcx, Guidenus, 
is the stronger and manlier spirit of the two ; Arviragus the 



44 CYMBELINE. 

more gentle and tender. Accordingly the former, when 
Cloten tries to frighten him with his empty bravado, an- 
swers, 

Those that I reverence, those I fear, the wise ; 
At fools I laugh, not fear them. 

So too in his sportive daring of consequences, after he has 
cut off the poor thing's head : 

I'll throw't into the creek 
Behind our rock ; and let it to the sea, 
To tell the fishes he's the Queen's son, Cloten : 
That's all I reck. 

On the other hand, Arviragus, in his grief at the seeming 
death of Imogen, loses himself in the pathetic legend of the 
Children dying in the wood, and the robins covering them 
with moss and flowers, till his brother chides him for " play- 
ing in wench-like words with that which is so serious." 

But they both reflect with equal clearness the image of 
their teaching. Except themselves, truth, piety, gentleness, 
heroism, are the only inmates of their rocky dwelling. Love 
and reverence, the principles of whatsoever is greatest and 
best in human character, have sprung up in their breasts in 
healthy, happy proportion, and indissolubly wedded them- 
selves to the simple and majestic forms of Nature around 
them. And how inexpressibly tender and sweet the pathos 
that mingles in their solemnities round the tomb of their 
gentle visitor, supposed to be dead ! But, indeed, of these 
forest-scenes it is impossible to speak with any sort of justice. 
And we cannot tell whether the " holy witchcraft " of these 
scenes is owing more to the heroic veteran, the two princely 
boys, or the " fair youth " that has strayed amongst them, 

A lovely apparition, sent 
To be a moment's ornament. 



INTRODUCTION. 45 

It is hardly too much to say, that whatever is most beautiful 
elsewhere in the Poet is imaged here in happier beauty. 
And, when the youthful dwellers in the mountain and the 
rock, awed and melted by the occasion, weep and warble 
over the grave of that "blessed thing " that seems to have 
dropped down from Heaven merely to win their love and 
vanish, one would think the scene must, as Schlegel says, 
"give to the most deadened imagination a new life for 
poetry." 



CYMBELINE 



PERSONS REPRESENTED. 



guiderius, 
Arviragus, 



Cymbeline, King of Britain. 

his Sons; disguised 

as Polydore and 

Cadwal. 
Cloten, Son to the Queen. 

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS. 

Belarius, a banished Lord. 

Philario, Friend to Post- ] 
humus, 

Iachimo, Friend to Phi- 
lario, 

A French Gentleman, Friend to Phi- 
lario. 

Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, Apparitions, a Soothsayer, a 
Dutch Gentleman, a Spanish Gentleman, Musicians, Officers, Capfains, 
Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. 

SCENE. — Sometimes in Britain, sometimes in Italy. 



Italians. 



Caius Lucius, General of the Ro- 
man Forces. 
Pisanio, Servant to Posthumus. 
Two British Captains. 
A Roman Captain. 
Cornelius, a Physician. 
Two Gentlemen. 
Two Jailers. 

Queen, wife to Cymbeline. 
Imogen, Daughter to Cymbeline. 
Helen, Woman to Imogen. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — Britain. The Garden of Cymbeline's Palace. 

Enter two Gentlemen. 

i Gent. You do not meet a man but frowns : our bloods 
Not more obey the heavens than our courtiers 
Still seem as does the King. 1 

1 The King has his face clouded because of his daughter's marriage, and 
the courtiers all pretend to feel just as he does about it. Bloods is put for 






48 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

2 Gent But what's the matter? 

i Gent. His daughter, and the heir of s kingdom, whom 
He purposed to his wife's sole son, — a widow 
That late he married, — hath referr'd herself 
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman : she's wedded ; 
Her husband banish'd ; she imprison'd : all 
Is outward sorrow ; though, I think, the King 
Be touch' d at very heart. 

2 Gent. None but the King ? 

i Gent. He that hath lost her too ; so is the Queen, 
That most desired the match : but not a courtier, 
Although they wear their faces to the bent 
Of the King's looks, but hath a heart that is 
Glad at the thing they scowl at. 

2 Gent. And why so ? 

i Gent. He that hath miss'd the Princess is a thing 
Too* bad for bad report ; and he that hath her, 
I mean, that married her, — alack, good man, 
And therefore banish'd ! — is a creature such 
As, to seek through the regions of the Earth 
For one his like, there would be something failing 
In him that should compare. I do not think 
So fair an outward, and such stuff within, 
Endows a man but he. 

2 Gent. You speak him far. 

i Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself; 2 

teinpers or dispositions ; and men's tempers were supposed to be subject to 
" skyey influences," or to sympathize with the tempers of the sky. So in 
Greene's Never too Late, 1599 : " If the King smiled, every one in Court was 
in his jollitie ; if he frowned, their plumes fell like peacocks' feathers." Also 
in Chapman's Tragedy of Byron : " They keepe all to cast in admiration on 
the King ; for from his face are all their faces moulded." 

2 Extend is probably used here in the legal sense of to estimate or ap- 



SCENE I. CY^IBELINE. 49 

Crush him together, rather than unfold 
His measure duly. 

2 Gent. What's his name and birth? 

i Gent. I cannot delve him to the root : his father 
Was call'd Sicilius, who did gain his honour 
Against the Romans with Cassibelan ; 
But had his titles by Tenantius, 3 whom 
He served with glory and admired 4 success ; 
So gain'd the sur-addition 5 Leonatus : 
And had, besides this gentleman in question, 
Two other sons, who, in the wars o' the time, 
Died with their swords in hand ; for which their father, 
Then old and fond of s issue, took such sorrow, 
That he quit being ; and his gentle lady, 
Mother of this gentleman our theme, deceased 
As he was born. The King he takes the babe 
To his protection ; calls him Posthumus Leonatus ; 
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber ; 
Puts to him all the learnings that his time 
Could make him the receiver of; which he took, 
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd ; and 
In's spring became a harvest ; lived in Court — 

praise. So that the meaning is, " My description falls short of what he is in 
himself." See As You Like It, page 78, note 3. 

3 Tenantius was the father of Cymbeline, and the son of Lud. On the 
death of Lud, his younger brother, Cassibelan, took the throne, to the exclu- 
sion of the lineal heir. Cassibelan repulsed the Romans on their first inva- 
sion, but was vanquished on their second, and agreed to pay an annual 
tribute to Rome. After his death, his nephew Tenantius was established on 
the throne. Some authorities tell us that he quietly paid the tribute stipu- 
lated by his usurping uncle ; others, that he refused it, and warred with the 
Romans ; which latter account is the one taken for true by the Poet. 

4 Admired for admirable, and in the sense of wonderful. Repeatedly so. 

5 Sur-addition is surname or superadded title. 



50 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

Which rare it is to do — most praised, most loved ; 5 
A sample to the youngest ; to the more mature 
A glass that feated them ; 7 and to the graver 
A child that guided dotards : to his mistress, 
For whom he now is banish'd, — her own price 
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue ; 
By her election may be truly read 
What kind of man he is. 

2 Gent. I honour him 

Even out of your report. But, pray you, tell me, 
Is she sole child to th' King ? 

i Gent. His only child. 

He had two sons, — if this be worth your hearing, 
Mark it, — the eld'st of them at three years old, 
I' the swathing-clothes the other, from their nursery 
Were stoPn ; and to this hour no guess in knowledge 
Which way they went. 

2 Gent. How long is this ago ? 

i Gent. Some twenty years. 

2 Gent. That a king's children should be so convey'd ! 
So slackly guarded ! and the search so slow, 
That could not trace them ! 

i Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange, 

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, 
Yet is it true, sir. 

2 Gent. I do well believe you. 

i Gent. We must forbear : here comes the gentleman, 

6 " This enconium," says Johnson, " is highly artful. To be at once in 
any great degree loved and praised is truly rare'' 

7 Their pattern or model ; the glass whereby they trimmed up and accom- 
plished themselves. In like manner, the Poet describes Hotspur as " the 
glass wherein the noble youth did dress themselves." 



SCENE I. CYMBELINE. 5 1 

The Queen, and Princess. [Exeunt. 

Enter the Queen, Posthumus, and Imogen. 

Queen. No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter, 
After the slander of most stepmothers, 
Evil-eyed unto you : you're my prisoner, but 
Your jailer shall deliver you the keys 
That lock up your restraint. — For you, Posthumus, 
So soon as I can win th' offended King, 
I will be known your advocate : marry, yet 
The fire of rage is in him ; and 'twere good 
You lean'd unto his sentence with what patience 
Your wisdom may inform you. 

Post. Please your Highness, 

I will from hence to-day. 

Queen. You know the peril. 

I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying 
The pangs of barr'd affections ; though the King 
Hath charged you should not speak together. [Exit. 

Imo. O 

Dissembling courtesy ! How fine this tyrant 
Can tickle where she wounds ! My dearest husband, 
I something fear my father's wrath ; but nothing — 
Always reserved my holy duty — what 
His rage can do on me : you must be gone • 
And I shall here abide the hourly shot 
Of angry eyes ; not comforted to live, 
But that there is this jewel in the world, 
That I may see again. 

Post. My queen ! my mistress ! 

O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause 
To be suspected of more tenderness 



52 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

Than doth become a man ! I will remain 
The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth : 
My residence in Rome at one Philario's ; 
Who to my father was a friend, to me 
Known but by letter : thither write, my queen, 
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send, 
Though ink be made of gall. 

Re-enter the Queen. 

Queen. Be brief, I pray you : 

If the King come, I shall incur I know not 
How much of his displeasure. — [Aside. ~\ Yet I'll move 

him 
To walk this way : I never do him wrong, 
But he does buy my injuries ; to be friends, 
Pays dear for my offences. 8 \_Exit. 

Post. Should we be taking leave 

As long a term as yet we have to live, 
The lothness to depart would grow. Adieu ! 

Imo. Nay, stay a little : 
Were you but riding forth to air yourself, 
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love ; 
This diamond was my mother's : take it, heart ; 
But keep it till you woo another wife, 
When Imogen is dead. 

Post. How, how ! another? — 

You gentle gods, give me but this I have, 
And cere up my embracements from a next 

8 Meaning that the King is so infatuated with her, that the more she 
offends him, the more he lavishes kindnesses upon her, in order to purchase 
her good-will. 



SCENE I. CY^BELINE. 53 

With bonds of death ! 9 — Remain, remain thou here 

[Putting on the ring. 
While sense can keep it on ! 10 And, sweetest, fairest, 
As I my poor self did exchange for you, 
To your so infinite loss ; so in our trifles 
I still win of you : for my sake wear this ; 
It is a manacle of love ; I'll place it 
Upon this fairest prisoner. [Putting a bracelet upon her arm. 

Imo. O the gods ! 

When shall we see again ? 

Post. Alack, the King ! 

Enter Cymbeline and Lords. 

Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid ! hence, from my sight ! 
If after this command thou fraught the Court 
With thy unworthiness, thou diest : away ! 
Thou'rt poison to my blood. 

Post. The gods protect you ! 

And bless the good remainders of the Court ! 
Fm gone. [Exit. 

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death 
More sharp than this is. 

Cym. O disloyal thing, 

That shouldst repair n my youth, thou heap'st 
A year's age on me ! 12 

9 Shakespeare calls the cere-cloths, in which the dead are wrapped, the 
bonds of death. In Hamlet, i. 4, he uses cerements in much the same way. 

10 While I have sensation to retain it. There can be no doubt that it 
refers to the ring, and it is equally obvious that thee would have been more 
proper. But Shakespeare has many such inaccuracies of language. 

11 To repair is, properly, to restore to the first state, to renew. 

12 This expression has been thought much too tame for the occasion. 
Gervinus regards it, and, I think, justly, as an instance of the King's general 



54 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

Imo. I beseech you, sir, 

Harm not yourself with your vexation : 
I'm senseless of your wrath ; a touch more rare 
Subdues all pangs, all fears. 

Cym. Past grace ? obedience ? 

Imo. Past hope, and in despair ; that way, past grace. 

Cym. That mightst have had the sole son of my Queen ! 

Imo. O bless 'd, that I might not ! I chose an eagle, 
And did avoid a puttock. 13 

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my 
throne 
A seat for baseness. 

Ino. No ; I rather added 

A lustre to it. 

Cym. O thou vile one ! 

Imo. Sir, 

It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus : 
You bred him as my playfellow ; and he is 
A man worth any woman ; overbuys me 
Almost the sum he pays. 

Cym. What ! art thou mad? 

Imo. Almost, sir : Heaven restore me ! Would I were 
A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus 
Our neighbour shepherd's son ! 

Cym. Thou foolish thing ! — 

, Re-enter the Queen. 
They were again together : you have done 



weakness : his whole character is without vigour ; and whenever he under- 
takes to say or do a strong thing, he collapses into tameness. 
13 A puttock is a mean degenerate hawk, not worth training. 



SCENE I. 



cyIibeline. 55 



Not after our command. Away with her ! 
And pen her up. 

Queen. Beseech your patience. — Peace, 

Dear lady daughter, peace ! — Sweet sovereign, leave 
Us to ourselves ; and make yourself some comfort 
Out of your best advice. 14 

Cym. Nay, let her languish 

A drop of blood a day ; and, being aged, 
Die of this folly ! 15 [Exeunt Cymbeline and Lords. 

Queen. Fie ! you must give way. 

Enter Pisanio. 

Here is your servant. — How now, sir ! What news ? 

Pis. My lord your son drew on my master. 

Queen. Ha ! 

No harm, I trust, is done ? 

Pis. There might have been, 

But that my master rather play'd than fought, 
And had no help of anger : they were parted 
By gentlemen at hand. 

Queen. I'm very glad on't. 

Imo. Your son's my father's friend ; he takes his part. 
To draw upon an exile ! — \_Aside.~] O brave sir ! 
I would they were in Afric both together ; 
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick 
The goer-back. — Why came you from your master? 

14 Advice is consideration or reflection. Often so. 

15 Another apt instance of the weakness that permits the old King to be 
such a hen-pecked husband. By " this folly" he means Imogen's love for 
Posthumus ; and she would ask no greater happiness than to die at a good 
old age of that disease. Of course, the King means it for a curse ; but he 
has not snap enough to make it such. 



56 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

Pis. On his command : he would not suffer me 
To bring him to the haven ; left these notes 
Of what commands I should be subject to, 
When't pleased you to employ me. 

Queen. This hath been 

Your faithful servant : I dare lay mine honour 
He will remain so. 

Pis. I humbly thank your Highness. 

Queen. Pray, walk awhile. 

Into. About some half-hour hence, 

I pray you, speak with me : you shall at least 
Go see my lord aboard : for this time leave me. \_Exeunt. 

Scene II. — The Same. A Public Place. 
Enter Cloten and two Lords. 

i Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt ; the vio- 
lence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice. Where 
air comes out, air comes in : there's none abroad so whole- 
some as that you vent. 

Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I 
hurt him? 

2 Lord. [Aside.'] No, faith ; not so much as his patience. 

i Lord. Hurt him ! his body's a passable carcass, if he be 
not hurt : it is a throughfare for steel, if it be not hurt. 

2 Lord. [Aside. ~\ His steel was in debt ; it went o' the 
backside the town. 1 

Clo. The villain would not stand me. 

2 Lord. [Aside.'] No ; but he fled forward still, toward 
your face. 

1 That is, to the jail, the place where other bankrupt debtors go. Allud- 
ing to Cloten's awkwardness in the handling of his sword. 



SCENE II. CYtoELINE. 5/ 

i Lord. Stand you ! You have land enough of your own ; 
but he added to your having, gave you some ground. 

2 Lord. [_Aside.~\ As many inches as you have oceans. 
Puppies ! 

Clo. I would they had not come between' us. 

2 Lord. \_Aside.~] So would I, till you had measured how 
long a fool you were upon the ground. 

Clo. And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me ! 

2 Lord. [_Aside.~\ If it be a sin to make a true election, 
she is damned. 

i Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her 
brain go not together : she's a good sign, but I have seen 
small reflection of her wit. 2 

2 Lord. \_Aside.~\ She shines not upon fools, lest the re- 
flection should hurt her. 

Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber. Would there had been 
some hurt done ! 

2 Lord. \_Aside.~\ I wish not so ; unless it had been the 
fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. 

Clo. You'll go with us ? 

2 Lord. I'll attend 3 your lordship. 

Clo. Nay, come, let's go together. 

2 Lord. Well, my lord. \_Exeunt. 

2 The more common explanation of this is, that " anciently almost every 
sign had a motto, or some attempt at a witticism underneath." But the 
Poet elsewhere uses reflection for radiance or light. See Macbeth, page 50, 
note 9. So I suspect sign is here used in the astronomical sense. As Heath 
explains, " She is undoubtedly a constellation of considerable lustre, but 
it is not displayed in her wit ; for I have seen but little manifestation of 
that." This is in accordance with the next speech, where reflection is used 
in its ordinary sense. Shakespeare often uses wit for judgment, tmderstand- 
ing, or wisdom. 

3 Attend, as often, in the sense of wait for or meet, and not in that of go 
along with. Hence Cloten says, " Nay, let's go together?' 



58 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

Scene III. — The Same. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace. 
Enter Imogen and Pisanio. 

Imo. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' the haven, 
And question' dst every sail : if he should write, 
And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost, 
As offer'd mercy is. 1 What was the last 
That he spake to thee ? 

Pis. It was, His queen, his queen ! 

Imo. Then waved his handkerchief? 

Pis. And kiss'd it, madam. 

Imo. Senseless linen ! happier therein than I ! 
And that was all? 

Pis. No, madam ; for so long 

As he could make me with this eye or ear 
Distinguish him from others, he did keep 
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief, 
Still waving, as the fits and stirs of's mind 
Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on, 
How swift his ship. 

Imo. Thou shouldst have made him 

As little as a crow, or less, ere left 
To after-eye him. 

Pis. Madam, so I did. 

Imo. I would have broke mine eye-strings, crack'd the 
balls, 
To look upon him ; till the diminution 
Of space 2 had pointed him sharp as my needle ; 

1 " It were a paper lost, which would be as welcome to me as a pardon 
to a condemned criminal." — HEATH. 

2 " The diminution of space " is the diminution caused by distance. The 
Poet has other like instances of lingual usage. 



SCENE in. C"i4fBELINE. 59 

Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from 

The smallness of a gnat to air ; and then 

Have turn'd mine eye, and wept. But, good Pisanio, 

When shall we hear from him ? 

Pis. Be assured, madam, 

With his next vantage. 3 

Imo. I did not take my leave of him, but had 
Most pretty things to say. Ere I could tell him 
How I would think on him, at certain hours, 
Such thoughts and such • or I could make him swear 
The shes of Italy should not betray 
Mine interest and his honour ; or have charged him, 
At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight, 
T' encounter me with orisons, for then 
I am in Heaven for him ; or ere I could 
Give him that parting kiss which I had set 
Betwixt two charming words, 4 comes in my father, 
And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north, 
Shakes all our buds from growing. 

Enter a Lady. 

Lady. The Queen, madam, 

Desires your Highness' company. 

Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd. 
I will attend the Queen. 

Pis. Madam, I shall. \Exeunt. 

3 Vantage or advantage was often thus used for opportunity. 

4 Charming words are enchanting words ; words which, as by the power 
of enchantment, should guard his heart against the assaults of temptation; 
or tie her kiss upon his lips with such "might of magic spells" that "the 
shes of Italy " should not be able to steal it off. So, a charmed shield was 
a shield that could not be pierced. See Macbeth, page 163, note 4. 



60 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 



Scene* IV. — Rome. A?i Apartoient in Philario's House. 

Enter Philario, Iachimo, a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a 
Spaniard. 1 

lack. Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain : he was 
then of a crescent note ; 2 expected to prove so worthy as 
since he hath been allowed the name of : but I could then 
have look'd on him without the help of admiration, though 
the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side, 
and I to peruse him by items. 

Phi. You speak of him when he was less furnish'd than 
now he is with that which makes him 3 both without and 
within. 

French. I have seen him in France : we had very many 
there could behold the Sun with as firm eyes as he. 

Iach. This matter of marrying his King's daughter — 
wherein he must be weighed rather by her value than his 
own — words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter. 4 

French. And then his banishment, — 

Iach. Ay, and the approbation of those that weep this 
lamentable divorce under her colours are wonderfully to 
extend him ; 5 be it but to fortify her judgment, which else 

1 The Dutchman and the Spaniard are but mutes in the scene. 

2 Of growing-repi*tation. We should say, becoming a man of mark. 

3 That is, completes or accomplishes him. 

4 Makes the description of him very distant from the truth. 

5 To stretch his reputation beyond his merits. — Those " under her col- 
ours " arc those on her side, the favourers of her marriage. — Approbation 
properly requires a verb in the singular, but the Poet has many such in- 
stances of grammatical discord. See Ha7nlet, page 57, note vz.=- Quality, 
second line below, is pursuit, calling, or profession. Iachimo means that 
Posthumus is a beggar in fact, though not in name, or though he does nc*t 



SCENE IV. 



CY%BELINE. 6 1 



an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar, without 
his quality. But how comes it he is to sojourn with you? 
how creeps acquaintance ? 

Phi. His father and I were soldiers together ; to whom I 
have been often bound for no less than my life. Here comes 
the Briton : let him be so entertained amongst you as suits, 
with gentlemen of your knowing, to a stranger of his quality. 

Enter Posthumus. 

— I beseech you all, be better known to this gentleman; 
whom I commend to you as a noble friend of mine : how 
worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story 
him in his own hearing. 

French. Sir, we have known together in Orleans 

Post. Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, 
which I will 6 be ever to pay, and yet pay still. 

French. Sir, you o'er-rate my poor kindness. I was glad 
I did atone 7 my countryman and you : it had been pity you 
should have been put together with so mortal 8 a purpose as 
then each bore, upon importance 9 of so slight and trivial a 
nature. 

Post. By your pardon, sir* I was then a young traveller ; 
rather shunn'd to go even with what I heard than in my 

practise begging for a livelihood ; in short, that he is a beggar without a 
beggar s vocation. The Poet often uses quality in this sense. See Hamlet, 
page in, note 52. 

6 The usage of our time requires shall here instead of will. 

7 Atone, as usual, in the sense of to reconcile or at-o?ie. 

8 Mortal, here, is deadly ox fatal. Often so. See Macbeth, page 68, note 6. 

9 Importance was sometimes used for import. Thus in The Winter's Tale, 
v. 2: " A' notable passion of wonder appeared in them; but the wisest be- 
holder could not say, if the importance were joy or sorrow." The word in 
the text has sometimes been wrongly explained importunity. 



62 CYMBELINE. ACT L 

every action to be guided by others' experiences : 10 but, 
upon my mended judgment, — if I offend not to say it is 
mended, — my quarrel was not altogether slight. 

French. Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of 
swords ; and by such two that would, by all likelihood, have 
confounded one the other, 11 or have fallen both. 

lack. Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference? 

French. Safely, I think : 'twas a contention in public, 
which may, without contradiction, suffer the report. It was 
much like an argument that fell out last night, where each 
of us fell in praise of our country mistresses ; this gentleman 
at that time vouching — and upon warrant of bloody affirma- 
tion — his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant- 
qualified, and less attemptabie, than any the rarest of our 
ladies in France. 

Iach. That lady is not now living; or this gentleman's 
opinion, by this, worn out. 

Post. She holds her virtue still, and I my mind. 

Iach. You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of Italy. 

Post. Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would 
abate her nothing ; though I profess myself her adorer, not 
her friend. 12 

Iach. As fair and as good — a kind of hand-in-hand com- 
parison 13 — had been something too fair and too good for 

10 Rather studied to avoid conducting himself by the opinions of others 
than to be guided by their experience. 

11 That is, destroyed. Confound is often so used by the Poet. 

12 Friend and lover were used synonymously. " Not merely her friend," 
is the speaker's thought. Posthumus means that he regards Imogen rather 
with the reverence of a worshipper than with the fondness of a lover. 

13 What is " a hand-in-hand comparison "? Is hand-in-hand used in the 
sense of tame or ordinary, such a comparison as might be made of almost 
any lady? Perhaps so ; as we speak of people as going hand in hand,, mean- 
ing that they go on a footing of equality. 



SCENE IV. 



:ymbeline. 63 



any lady in Britany. If she went before others I have seen, 
as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld, I 
could but believe she excelled many ; 14 but I have not seen 
the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady. 

Post. I praised her as I rated her ; so do I my stone. 

lack. What do you esteem it at? 

Post. More than the world enjoys. 

Iach. Either your unparagon'd mistress is dead, or she's 
outprized by a trifle. 

Post. You are mistaken : the one may be sold or given, 
if there were wealth enough for the purchase or merit for 
the gift ; the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift 
of the gods. 

Iach. Which the gods have given you? 

Post. Which, by their graces, I will keep. 

Iach. You may wear her in title yours ; but, you know, 
strange 15 fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring 
may be stolen too : so, your brace of unprizable estimations, 
the one is but frail, and the other casual ; a cunning thief, or 
a that-way-accomplish'd courtier, would hazard the winning 
both of first and last. 

Post. Your Italy contains none so accomplish'd a courtier 
to convince 16 the honour of my mistress ; if, in the holding 
or loss of that, you term her frail. I do nothing doubt you 
have store of thieves ; notwithstanding, I fear not my ring. 

Phi. Let us leave here, gentlemen. 

Post. Sir, with all my heart This worthy signior, I thank 
him, makes no stranger of me ; we are familiar at first. 

Iach. With five times so much conversation, I should get 

14 The meaning is, 'T could believe only that she excelled many, not all." 

15 Strange in the sense of alien ox foreign, — not belonging there. 

16 To convince in the sense of to overcome or subdue. Often so. 



64 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

ground of your fair mistress, had I admittance, and oppor- 
tunity to friend. 17 

Post. No, no. 

lack. I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to 
your ring ; which, in my opinion, o'ervalues it something : 
but I make my wager rather against your confidence than 
her reputation ; and, to bar your offence herein too, I durst 
attempt it against any lady in the world. 

Post You are a great deal abused 18 in too bold a persua- 
sion ; and I doubt not you sustain what you're worthy of by 
your attempt. 

lack. What's that? 

Post A repulse ; though your attempt, as you call it, 
deserve more, — a punishment too. 

Phi. Gentlemen, enough of this : it came in too suddenly ; 
let it die as it was born, and, I pray you, be better acquainted. 

lack. Would I had put my estate and my neighbour's on 
the approbation 19 of what I have spoke ! 

Post. What lady would you choose to assail? 

Iach. Yours ; who in constancy you think stands so safe. 
I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring, that, com- 
mend me to the Court where your lady is, with no more 
advantage than the opportunity of a second conference, and 
I will bring from thence that honour of hers which you ima- 
gine so reserved. 

Post. I will wage against your gold, gold to it : my ring I 
hold dear as my finger ; 'tis part of it. 

Iach. You are afraid, and therein the wiser. 20 If you 

17 To was very often used where we should use /or or as. 

18 Abused is deceived or imposed upon. A frequent usage. 

19 Approbation in the sense of making good ox proving true ; as approve 
was often used. See The Winter's Tale, page 70, note 23. 

20 You are the wiser in fearing to have your wife put to the proof. To 



SCENE iv. CYMBELINE. 65 

buy ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you cannot preserve it 
from tainting ; but I see you have some religion in you, that 
you fear. 

Post. This is but a custom in your tongue ; you bear a 
graver purpose, I hope. 

lack. I am the master of my speeches ; and would undergo 
what's spoken, 21 I swear. 

Post. Will you ? I shall but lend my diamond till your 
return. Let there be covenants drawn between's : my mis- 
tress exceeds in goodness the hugeness of your unworthy 
thinking. I dare you to this match ; here's my ring. 

Phi. I will have it no lay. 

lack. By the gods, it is one. — If I come off, and leave 
her in such honour as you have trust in, she your jewel, 
this your jewel, and my gold are yours ; provided I have 
your commendation for my more free entertainment. 

Post. I embrace these conditions ; let us have articles 
betwixt us. Only, thus far you shall answer : If you make 
your voyage upon her, and give me directly to understand 
you have prevail'd, I am no further your enemy ; she is not 
worth our debate : if she remain unseduced, — you not making 
it appear otherwise, — for your ill opinion, and the assault you 
have made to her honour, you shall answer me with your 
sword. 



screw Posthumus up to the sticking-point, the villain here imputes his back- 
wardness to a distrust of his wife, and so brings his confidence in her over 
to the side of the wager and trial. So in what Iachimo says just after : " But 
I see you have some religion in you, that you fear " ; that is, evidently, fear 
to have your wife's honour attempted, lest it should give way. It scarce 
need be said, that to such a man as Iachimo religion and superstition are 
synonymous terms. 

21 That is, " I will undertake what I have said." Such is often the mean- 
ing of undergo. See Jtdius Gzsar, page 69, note 32. 



66 CYMBEL1NE. ACT I. 

lack. Your hand ; a covenant : we will have these things 
set down by lawful counsel, and straight away for Britain, 
lest the bargain should catch cold and starve. I will fetch 
my gold, and have our two wagers recorded. 

Post. Agreed. \_Exeunt Posthumus and Iachimo. 

E?-e?ich. Will this hold, think you ? 

Phi. Signior Iachimo will not from it. Pray, let us fol- 
low 'em. [Exeunt. 

Scene V. — Britain. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace. 
Enter the Queen, Ladies, and Cornelius. 

Queen. Whiles yet the dew's on ground, gather those flow- 
ers ; 
Make haste : who has the note of them ? 

i Lady. I, madam. 

Queen. Dispatch. — \_Exeunt Ladies. 

Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs ? 

Cor. Pleaseth your Highness, ay ; here they are, madam : 

[Presenting a small box. 
But, I beseech your Grace, without offence, — 
My conscience bids me ask, — wherefore you have 
Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds, 
Which are the movers of a languishing death ; 
But, though slow, deadly ? 

Queen. I do wonder, doctor, 

Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been 
Thy pupil long ? Hast thou not learn'd me how 
To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so 
That our great King himself doth woo me oft 
For my confections ? Having thus far proceeded, — 



SCENE V. CYMBELINE. 6*J 

Unless thou think'st me devilish, — is't not meet 

That I did amplify my judgment in 

Other conclusions? 1 I will try the forces 

Of these thy compounds on such creatures as 

We count not worth the hanging, — but none human, — 

To test the vigour of them, and apply 

Allayments to their act ; 2 and by them gather 

Their several virtues and effects. 

Cor. Your Highness 

Shall from this practice but make hard your heart : 
Besides, the seeing these effects will be 
Both noisome and infectious. 

Queen. O. content thee. — 

[Aside. ~\ Here comes a flattering rascal ; upon him 
Will I first work : he's factor for his master, 
And enemy to my son. — 

Enter Pisanio. 

How now, Pisanio ! — 
Doctor, your service for this time is ended ; 
Take your own way. 

Cor. [Aside.'] I do suspect you, madam ; 
But you shall do no harm. 

Queen. [To Pisanio.] Hark thee, a word. 

Cor. [Aside. ~\ I do not like her. She doth think she has 
Strange lingering poisons : I do know her spirit, 
And will not trust one of her malice with 
A drug of such damn'd nature. Those she has 
Will stupefy and dull the sense awhile ; 

1 Conclusions in the old sense of experiments. " I commend," says Wal- 
ton, " an angler that trieth conclusio?is, and improves his art." 

2 Act here means action, operation, or effect. 



68 CYMBELINE. ACT L 

Which first, perchance, she'll prove on cats and dogs, 

Then afterward up higher : but there is 

No danger in what show of death it makes, 

More than the locking-up the spirits a time, 

To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd 

With a most false effect ; and I the truer, 

So to be false with her. 3 

Queen. No further service, doctor, 

Until I send for thee. 

Cor. I humbly take my leave. \_Exit. 

Queen. Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost thou think in 
time 
She will not quench, 4 and let instructions enter 
Where folly now possesses ? Do thou work : 
When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son, 
I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then 
As great as is thy master ; greater ; for 
His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name 
Is at last gasp : return he cannot, nor 
Continue where he is : to shift his being 5 
Is to exchange one misery with another ; 
And every day that comes comes to decay 
A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect, 

3 This speech might be cited as proving that Shakespeare preferred ex- 
pectation to surprise as an element of dramatic interest. Johnson thought 
it " very inartificial " that Cornelius should thus " make a long speech to tell 
himself what he already knows." And the speech seems fairly open to some 
such reproof. But it prepares, and was doubtless meant to prepare, us for 
the seeming death and revival of Imogen; and without some such prepar- 
ation those incidents would be open to the much graver censure of clap-trap. 
The expectancy thus started is at all events better than attempting to spring 
a vulgar sensation upon the audience. 

4 To quench must here mean to grow cool ; an odd use of the word. 

5 " To shift his being" is to change his dwelling or his place of abode. 



SCENE V. CYMBELINE. 69 

To be depender 6 on a thing that leans ; 
Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends, 

[The Queen drops the box ; Pisanio takes it up. 
So much as but to prop him? Thou takest up 
Thou know'st not what ; but take it for thy labour : 
It is a thing I made, which hath the King 
Five times redeem'd from death : I do not know 
What is more cordial. Nay, I pr'ythee, take it ; 
It is an earnest of a further good 
That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how 
The case stands with her ; do't as from thyself. 
Think what a chance thou chancest on ; but think 
Thou hast thy mistress still ; to boot, my son, 
Who shall take notice of thee. I'll move the King 
To any shape of thy preferment, such 
As thou'lt desire ; and then myself, I chiefly, 
That set thee on to this desert, am bound 
To load thy merit richly. Call my women : 
Think on my words. — \Exit Pisanio. 

A sly and constant knave ; 
Not to be shaked ; the agent for his master ; 
And the remembrancer of her to hold 
The hand-fast 7 to her lord. I've given him that 
Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her 
Of liegers 8 for her sweet ; and which she after, 
Except she bend her humour, shall be assured 

6 The infinitive used gerundively. So that the meaning is, " by being de- 
pender," &c, or from being. And so before, in scene iii. : " I would have 
broke mine eye-strings, crack'd the balls, to look upon him ; " that is, by 
looking. 

7 Hand-fast is the same as troth-plight, or marriage. 

8 A lieger is an ambassador ; one that resides in a foreign Court to pro- 
mote his master's interest. 



70 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

To taste of too. — 

Re-enter Pisanio and Ladies. 

So, so ; well done, well done : 
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses, 
Bear to my closet. — Fare thee well, Pisanio ; 
Think on my words. \_Exennt Queen and Ladies. 

Pis. And shall do : 

But when to my good lord I prove untrue, 
I'll choke myself; there's all I'll do for you. [Exit. 

Scene VI. — The Same. Another Room in the Palace. 

Enter Imogen. 

Imo. A father cruel, and a step-dame false ; 
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady, 
That hath her husband banish'd ; — O, that husband ! 
My supreme crown of grief ! and those repeated 
Vexations of it ! Had I been thief-stol'n, 
As my two brothers, happy ! Blest be those, 
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills ; 
Which seasons comfort : 1 but most miserable 
Is the desire that's glorious. Who may this be ? Fie ! 

Enter Pisanio and Iachimo. 

Pis. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome 
Comes from my lord with letters. 

1 To season a thing is to give it a relish : the word is constantly so used 
in cookery. — The meaning of the passage is, the homely freedom of those 
who dwell in the poorest cottages, those who are left to the enjoyment of 
their honest wills, is what puts a relish into the comforts of life, and makes 
them blessings indeed. 



SCENE VI. 



cyi\!beline. 71 



lack. Change you, madam ? 

The worthy Leonatus is in safety, 
And greets your Highness dearly. [Presents a letter. 

Imo. Thanks, good sir : 

You're kindly welcome. 

lack. \_Aside.~] All of her that is out of door most rich ! 
If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare, 
She is alone th' Arabian bird ; 2 and I 
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend ! 
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot 1 
Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight ; 
Rather, directly fly. 

Imo. [Reads.] He is one of the noblest note, to whose 
kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him ac- 
cordingly, as you value your trust? Leonatus. 

So far I read aloud : 

But even the very middle of my heart 

Is warm'd by th' rest, and takes it thankfully. — 

You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I 

Have words to bid you ; and shall find it so, 

In all that I can do. 

Iach. Thanks, fairest lady. — 

What, are men mad ? Hath Nature given them eyes 
To see this vaulted arch and the rich scope 
Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt 

2 The Arabian bird is the Phoenix, of which there could be but one living 
at once ; and so it had no equal. The Poet uses it repeatedly in compar- 
isons. See Antony and Cleopatra, page 103, note 1. 

3 " Your trust" here, is " my trust in you," or " the trust I repose in you." 
Observe, Imogen reads aloud only the first two sentences of the letter, and 
then skips all the rest till she comes to the signature, which she also pro- 
nounces aloud. For this use of the genitive see Tempest, page 132, note 3. 



72 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

The fiery orbs above, and the twinn'd stones 
Upon th' unnumber'd beach ? 4 and can we not 
Partition make with spectacles so precious 
'Twixt fair and foul ? 

Imo. What makes your admiration ? 5 

lack. It cannot be i' the eye ; for apes and monkeys, 
'Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way, and 
Contemn with mows 6 the other : nor i' the judgment ; 
For idiots, in this case of favour, would 
Be wisely definite : nor i' the appetite ; 
Sluttery, to such neat excellence opposed, 
Should make desire vomit from emptiness, 7 
Not so allured to feed. 

Imo. What is the matter, trow ? 8 

lack. The cloyed will, — 

That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub 
Both fill'd and running, — ravening first the lamb, 
Longs after for the garbage. 

Imo. What, dear sir, 

Thus raps you ? 9 Are you well ? 

4 Which can distinguish betwixt the pebbles, though as like one another 
as twins, that lie numberless on the beach. Unnumber'd for innumerable, 
Shakespeare has many instances of like usage. See King Lear, page 173, 
note 3. — Partition, in the next line, means distinction. 

5 " What causes your wonder ? " Admiration in its Latin sense. 

6 Mows is wry- faces ; as to mow or moe is to make moutJis. 

7 Would make a hungry man vomit from an empty stomach. Should for 
would ; as would occurs just before in the same construction ; the two being 
often used indiscriminately. 

8 Trow was sometimes used for I wonder. See Much Ado, p. 85, n. 11. 

9 " What casts you into such a rapture or trance ? what so ravishes you 
from yourself? " Walker quotes a like instance of rap from Shirley: 

Prithee, unlock thy word's sweet treasury, 
And rape me with the music of thy tongue. 



SCENE VI. CYMBELINE. 73 

lack. Thanks, madam; well. — \To Pisanio.] Beseech 
you, sir, desire 10 
My man's abode where I did leave him : he 
Is strange and peevish. 11 

Pis. I was going, sir, 

To give him welcome. [Exit. 

Imo. Continues well my lord ? His health, beseech you ? 

lack. Well, madam. 

Imo. Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is. 

lack. Exceeding pleasant ; none a stranger there 
So merry and so gamesome : he is call'd 
The Briton reveller. 

Imo. When he was here 

He did incline to sadness, and oft-times 
Not knowing why. 

lack. I never saw him sad. 

There is a Frenchman his companion, one 
An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves 
A Gallian girl at home ; he furnaces 
The thick sighs from him ; 12 whiles the jolly Briton — 
Your lord, I mean — laughs from's free lungs ; cries O, 
Can my sides hold, to think that man — who knows 
By history, report, or his own proof, 
What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose 
But must be — will his free hours languish for 
Assured bondage ? 



10 Desire here means seek, or inquire out. 

11 He is a stranger here, and is foolish, or ignorant. This use of peevish 
in the sense of foolish was very common. 

12 The sigh-like noise of furnaces appears to have been a favourite source 
of imagery with Shakespeare. So in As You Like It, ii. 7 ■ " And then the 
lover, sighing like furnace!' 



74 CYMBELINE. ACT I. 

Imo. Will my lord say so ? 

lack. Ay, madam ; with his eyes in flood with laughter : 
It is a recreation to be by, 

And hear him mock the Frenchman. But, Heavens know, 
Some men are much to blame. 

Imo. Not he, I hope. 

lack. Not he : but yet Heaven's bounty towards him might 
Be used more thankfully : in himself, 'tis much ; 
In you, — which I 'count his, — beyond all talents. 13 
Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound 
To pity too. 

Imo. What do you pity, sir? 

lack. Two creatures heartily. 

Imo. Am I one, sir? 

You look on me : what wreck discern you in me 
Deserves your pity? 

lack. Lamentable ! What ! 

To hide me from the radiant Sun, and solace 
I' the dungeon by a snuff? 

Imo. I pray you, sir, 

Deliver with more openness your answers 
To my demands. Why do you pity me ? 

lack. That others do — I was about to say — 
But 'tis an office of the gods to venge it, 
Not mine to speak on't. 

Imo. You do seem to know 

Something of me, or what concerns me : pray you, — 
Since doubting things go ill 14 often hurts more 

13 The meaning appears to be, " Heaven's bounty towards him in his own 
person is great ; but in you, — for I regard you as his treasure, — it is beyond 
all estimate of riches." 

14 That is, " since fearing that things go ill." The Poet often has doubt 
in its old sense of fear or suspect. See Hamlet, page 68, note 46. 



SCENE VI. CYMBELINE. 75 

Than to be sure they do ; for certainties 
Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing, 
The remedy then born, — discover to me 
What both you spur and stop. 15 

lack. Had I this cheek 

To bathe my lips upon ; this hand, whose touch, 
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul 
To th' oath of loyalty ; this object, which 
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, 
Fixing it only here ; should I — damn'd then — 
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs 
That mount the Capitol : join gripes with hands 
Made hard with hourly falsehood, 16 — falsehood, as 
With labour ; then sit peeping in an eye 
Base and unlustrous as the smoky light 
That's fed with stinking tallow ; — it were fit 
That all the plagues of Hell should at one time 
Encounter such revolt. 

Into. My lord, I fear, 

Has forgot Britain. 

lack. And himself. Not I, 

Inclined to this intelligence, pronounce 
The beggary of his change ; but 'tis your graces 
That from my mutest conscience to my tongue 
Charms this report out. 

I?no. Let me hear no more. 



15 The information which you seem to press forward and yet withhold. 
The allusion is to horsemanship. So in Sidney's Arcadia : " She was like a 
horse desirous to runne, and miserably spurred, but so skort-reined, as he 
cannot stirre forward." 

16 Made hard by hourly clasping hands in vowing friendship, or in sealing 
covenants, falsely. 



76 CYMBELINE. AC 

lack. O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart 
With pity, that doth make me sick ! A lady 
So fair, and fasten'd to an empery 
Would make the great'st king double, 17 to be partner'd 
With tomboys, hired with that self exhibition 18 
Which your own coffers yield ! with diseased ventures 
That play with all infirmities for gold 
Which rottenness can lend nature ! such boiPd stuff 19 
As well might poison poison ! Be revenged ; 
Or she that bore you was no queen, and you 
Recoil from your great stock. 

Imo. Revenged ! 

How should I be revenged ? If this be true, — 
As I have such a heart that both mine ears 
Must not in haste abuse, — if it be true, 
How should I be revenged ? 

lack. Should he make me 20 

Lie, like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets, 
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps, 
In your despite, upon your purse ? Revenge it. 
I will continue fast to your affection, 
Still close as sure. 

Imo. What, ho, Pisanio ! 



17 And fasten'd, by inheritance, to such an empire or kingdom as would 
double the power of the greatest king. 

18 Self is here used for self-same. — Tomboy, which is now applied some- 
times to a rude romping girl, formerly meant a wanton. — Exhibition is 
allowance or rnaintenance. See Othello, page 73, note 27. 

19 Alluding to the old mode of treating what was called the French dis- 
ease, by using " the sweating-tub." 

20 A pretty bold ellipsis. The meaning is, " If I were you, should he," 
&c. — Diana's priests were maiden priests. So, in Pericles, v. 2, Diana says, 
"When my maiden priests are met together." 



I 

SCENE VI. CYMBELINE. JJ 

lack. Let me my service tender on your lips. 

Imo. Away ! I do condemn mine ears that have 
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable, 
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not 
For such an end thou seek'st, — as base as strange. 
Thou wrong'st a gentleman who is as far 
From thy report as thou from honour ; and 
Solicit'st here a lady that disdains 
Thee and the Devil alike. — What ho, Pisanio ! — 
The King my father shall be made acquainted 
Of thy assault : if he shall think it fit, 
A saucy stranger, in his Court, to mart 
As in a Romish 21 stew, and to expound 
His beastly mind to us, he hath a Court 
He little cares for, and a daughter who 
He not respects at all. — What, ho, Pisanio ! — 

lack. O happy Leonatus ! I may say : 
The credit that thy lady hath of thee 
Deserves thy trust ; and thy most perfect goodness 
Her assured credit. — Blessed live you long ! 
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever 
Country call'd his ! and you his mistress, only 
For the most worthiest fit ! Give me your pardon. 
I have spoke this, to know if your affiance 
Were deeply rooted ; and shall make your lord, 
That which he is, new o'er : and he is one 
The truest-manner'd ; such a holy witch, 
That he enchants societies unto him ; 
Half all men's hearts are his. 

Imo. You make amends. 

21 Romish for Roman was the language of the time. — To mart is to trade 
or traffic. See Hamlet, page 51, note 25. 



J8 CYMBELINE. ACT i. 

lack. He sits 'mongst men like a descended god ; 
He hath a kind of honour sets him off, 
More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, 
Most mighty Princess, that I have adventured 
To try your taking of a false report ; which hath 
Honour'd with confirmation your great judgment 
In the election of a sir so rare, 
Which you know cannot err : 22 the love I bear him 
Made me to fan you thus ; but the gods made you, 
Unlike all others, chafness. Pray, your pardon. 

Imo. All's well, sir : take my power i' the Court for yours. 

lack. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot 
T' entreat your Grace but in a small request, 
And yet of moment too, for it concerns 
Your lord ; myself and other noble friends 
Are partners in the business. 

I??io. Pray, what is't? 

Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord, — 
The best feather of our wing, — have mingled sums 
To buy a present for the Emperor ; 
Which I, the factor for the rest, have done 
In France : 'tis plate of rare device, and jewels 
Of rich and exquisite form ; their values great ; 
And I am something curious, being strange, 23 
To have them in safe stowage : may it please you 
To take them in protection ? 

Imo. Willingly ; 

And pawn mine honour for their safety : since 

22 Which, in this clause, probably refers to judgment, and the sense of 
canfiot err is limited to the particular matter in hand : " Which cannot be 
wrong or in error as to the character of your husband." 

23 Curious, here, is scrupulous ox particular. Strange, again, for stranger. 



scene vi. cyIibeline. 79 

My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them 
In my bedchamber. 

lack. They are in a trunk, 

Attended by my men : I will make bold 
To send them to you, only for this night ; 
I must aboard to-morrow. 

Imo. O, no, no. 

lack. Yes, I beseech ; or I shall short my word 
By lengthening my return. From Gallia 
I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise 
To see your Grace. 

Imo. I thank you for your pains : 

But not away to-morrow ! 

lack. O, I must, madam : 

Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please 
To greet your lord with writing, do't to-night : 
I have outstood my time ; which is material 
To th' tender of our present. 

Imo. I will write. 

Send your trunk to me ; it shall safe be kept, 
And truly yielded you. You're very welcome. [Exeunt. 



80 CYMBELINE. 



ACT II. 



Scene I. — Britain. Court before Cymbeline's Palace. 
Enter Cloten and two Lords. 

Clo. Was there ever man had such luck? when I kiss'd 
the jack, upon an up-cast to be hit away ! * I had a hundred 
pound on't. And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me 
up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and 
might not spend them at my pleasure. 

i Lord. What got he by that ? You have broke his pate 
with your bowl. 

2 Lord. [Aside.'] If his wit had been like him that broke 
it, it would have run all out. 

Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for 
any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha? 

2 Lord. No, my lord ; — [Aside.'] nor crop the ears of 
them. 

Clo. Whoreson dog ! I give him satisfaction ? Would he 
had been one of my rank ! 

2 Lord. [Aside. ~] To have smelt like a fool. 

Clo. _ I am not vex'd more at any thing in the Earth. A 
pox on't ! I had rather not be so noble as I am ; they dare 
not fight with me, because of the Queen my mother : every 
Jack-slave hath his stomach full of fighting, and I must go 
up and down like a cock that nobody can match. 

1 He is describing his fate at bowls. The jack is the small bowl at which 
the others are aimed : he who is nearest to it wins. " To kiss the jack" is 
a state of great advantage. Cloten's bowl was hit away by the upcast of 
another bowler. So Rowley, in A Woman never Vexed : " This city bowler 
has kiss 'd the mistress at the first cast." The jack was also called mistress. 



SCENE I. CYMBELINE. 8 1 

2 Lord. \_Aside.~] You are cock and capon too ; and you 
crow, cock, with your comb on. 2 

Clo. Sayestthou? 

2 Lord. It is not fit your lordship should undertake every 
companion 3 that you give offence to. 

Clo. No, I know that : but it is fit I should commit offence 
to my inferiors. 

2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only. 

Clo. Why, so I say. 

i Lord. Did you hear of a stranger that's come to Court 
to-night ? 

Clo. A stranger, and I not know on't ! 

2 Lord. \_Aside.~] He's a strange fellow himself, and knows 
it not. 

i Lord. There's an Italian come ; and, 'tis thought, one 
of Leonatus' friends. 

Clo. Leonatus ! a banish'd rascal ; and he's another, what- 
soever he be. Who told you of this stranger? 

i Lord. One of your lordship's pages. 

Clo. Is it fit I went to look upon him ? is there no dero- 
gation in't? 

i Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord. 

Clo. Not easily, I think. 

2 Lord. \_Aside.~] You are a fool granted ; therefore your 
issues, being foolish, do not derogate. 

Clo. Come, I'll go see this Italian : what I have lost to- 
day at bowls I'll win to-night of him. Come, go. 

2 Lord. I'll attend your lordship. — 

\_Exeunt Cloten and First Lord. 

2 Meaning, probably, " you are a coxcomb." A cock's comb was one of 
the badges of the professional Fool, and hence the compound came to mean 
a simpleton. 

3 Companion was often used in contempt, as fellow is now. 



82 CYMBELINE. ACT II. 

That such a crafty devil as is his mother 

Should yield the world this ass ! a woman that 

Bears all down with her brain ; and this her son 

Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart, 

And leave eighteen. Alas, poor Princess, 

Thou divine Imogen, what thou endurest, 

Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd, 

A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer 

More hateful than the foul expulsion is 

Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act 

Of the divorce he'd make ! The Heavens hold firm 

The walls of thy dear honour ; keep unshaked 

That temple, thy fair mind ; that thou mayst stand, 

T' enjoy thy banish'd lord and this great land ! \_Exit. 



Scene II. — The Same. Imogen's bedchamber in Cymbe- 
line's Palace : a trunk in one corner of it. 

Imogen in bed, reading; a Lady attending. 

Imo. Who's there? my woman Helen? 

Lady. Please you, madam. 

Imo. What hour is it ? 

Lady. Almost midnight, madam. 

Imo. I have read three hours, then ; mine eyes are weak : 
Fold down the leaf where I have left. To bed : 
Take not away the taper, leave it burning ; 
And, if thou canst awake by four o' the clock, 
I pr'ythee, call me. Sleep hath seized me wholly. — 

\_Exit Lady. 
To your protection I commend me, gods ! 
From fairies, and the tempters of the night, 



SCENE II. 



:YffBELINE. 83 



Guard me, beseech ye ! 

[Sleeps. Iachimo comes from the trunk, 
lack. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense 
Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus 
Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd 
The chastity he wounded. — Cytherea, 
How bravely thou becomest thy bed ! fresh lily ! 
And whiter than the sheets ! That I might touch ! 
But kiss ; one kiss ! Rubies unparagon'd, 
How dearly they do't ! l 'Tis her breathing that 
Perfumes the chamber thus : the flame o' the taper 
Bows toward her ; and would under-peep her lids, 
To see th' enclosed lights, now canopied 
Under these windows 2 — white and azure — laced 
With blue of heaven's own tinct. 3 But my design's 
To note the chamber. I will write all down : 
Such and such pictures ; there the windows ; such 
Th' adornment of her bed ; the arras, figures, 
Why, such and such ; and the contents o' the story. 
Ah, but some natural notes about her body, 

1 That is, how dearly do her ruby lips kiss each other. Iachimo of course 
does not venture to kiss the lips that are so tempting. 

2 The windows of the eyes are the eyelids. So in Romeo and Juliet : 
" Thy eyes' windows fall, like death when he shuts up the day of life." And 
in Venus and Adonis : 

The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day ; 
Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth. 

3 This is an exact description of the eyelid of a fair beauty, which is white, 
laced with veins of blue. Observe, laced agrees with windows, not with 
white and azure ; for the azure is the " blue of heaven's own tinct." Per- 
haps the sense would be clearer thus : " white with azure laced, the blue," 
&c. Drayton seems to have had this passage in his mind : 

And these sweet veins by nature rightly placed, 
Wherewith she seems the white skin to have laced . 



84 CYMBELINE. 



ACT II. 



Above ten thousand meaner movables, 
Would testify, t' enrich mine inventory. — 
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her ! 
And be her sense but as a monument, 4 
Thus in a chapel lying ! — Come off, come off; 

[Taking off her bracelet. 
As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard ! 
'Tis mine ; and this will witness outwardly, 
As strongly as the conscience 5 does within, 
To th' madding of her lord. On her left breast 
A mole cinque-spotted, 6 like the crimson drops 
I' the bottom of a cowslip : here's a voucher 
Stronger than ever law could make : this secret 
Will force him think I've pick'd the lock, and ta'en 
The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end? 
Why should I write this down, that's riveted, 
Screw'd to my memory ? She hath been reading late 
The tale of Tereus : 7 here the leafs turn'd down 
Where Philomel gave up. I have enough : 
To th' trunk again, and shut the spring of it. — 
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, 8 that dawning 
May bare the raven's eye ! 9 I lodge in fear ; 
Though this a heavenly angel, Hell is here. \_Clock strikes. 

4 Monument for statue, image, or any monumental figure. 
6 Conscience has no reference to Posthumus. As strongly as the con- 
science of any guilty person witnesses to the fact of his guilt. 

6 Some readers may like to be told that cinque means/w. 

7 Tereus and Progne is the second tale in A Petite Palace of Pettie his 
Pleasure, 1576. The story is related in Ovid, Metam. 1. vi. ; and by Gower 
in his Confessio Amantis, 

8 The task of drawing the chariot of Night was assigned to dragons, on 
account of their supposed watchfulness,. See Midsummer, page 80, note 36. 

9 May ?nake bare ox open the raven's eye. The raven, being a very early 
stirrer, is here referred to as having its eye opened by the dawn. 



SCENE III. CYMBELINE. 85 

One, two, three, — Time, time ! 10 

[ Goes into the trunk. Scene closes. 



Scene III. — The Same. An Ante-chamber adjoining 
Imogen's Apartments in the Palace. 

JEfiter Cloten and Lords. 

1 Lord. Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, 
the most coldest that ever turn'd up ace. 

Clo. It would make any man cold to lose. 

1 Lord. But not every man patient after the noble temper 
of your lordship. You are most hot and furious when you win. 

Clo. Winning will put any man into courage. If I could 
get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough. It's 
almost morning, is't not? 

j Lord. Day, my lord. 

Clo. I would this music would come ! I am advised to 
give her music o' mornings; they say it will penetrate. — 

Enter Musicians. 

Come on ; tune. If you can penetrate her with your finger- 
ing, so ; we'll try with tongue too : if none will do, let her 
remain ; but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent 

10 The inexpressible purity and delicacy of this scene has been often com- 
mended. The description of Imogen would almost engage our respect 
upon the describer, but that we already know Iachimo to be one of those 
passionless minds in which gross thoughts are most apt to lodge ; and that 
the unaccustomed awe of virtue, which Imogen struck into him at their first 
interview, chastises down his tendencies to gross-thoughtedness while in her 
presence. Thus his delicacy of speech only goes to heighten our impression 
of Imogen's character, inasmuch as it seems to come, not from him, but from 
her through him ; and as something that must be divine indeed, not to be 
strangled in passing through such a medium. 



86 CYMBELINE. ACT II. 

good-conceited 1 thing ; after, a wonderful sweet air, with ad- 
mirable rich words to it ; and then let her consider. 

Song. 

Hai'k, ha7k! the lark at Heaven's gate sings? 

And Phoebus 'gins arise, 
His steeds to water at those springs 

On chalice d 'flowers that lies ; 3 
And winking Mary-buds begin 

To ope their golde?i eyes: 
With every thing that pretty is, 

My lady sweet, arise ; 
Arise, arise / 

Clo. So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will consider 

1 Good-conceited is the same as well-conceived or well-imagined. 

2 A similar figure occurs in Paradise Lost, v. 197 : " Ye birds, that sing- 
ing up to heaven-gate ascend, bear on your wings and in your notes His 
praise." And in Shakespeare's 29th Sonnet; 

Haply, I think on thee, and then my state, 

Like to the lark at break of day arising 

From sullen earth, sings hymns at Heaven's gate. 

The whole song may have been suggested by a passage in Lyly's Alexander 

and Campaspe : 

Who is't now we hear ? 
None but the lark so shrill and clear : 
Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, 
The morn not waking till she sings. 
Hark, hark I with what a pretty throat 
Poor robin red-breast tunes his note. 

3 The morning dries up the dew which lies in the cups of flowers called 
calices or chalices. The marigold is one of those flowers which close them- 
selves up at sunset. So in the 25th Sonnet : " Great princes' favourites 
their fair leaves spread, but as the marigold at the Sun's eye." — Such in- 
stances of false concord as lies were common with the older poets, and were 
not then breaches of grammar. 



SCENE III. CYMBELINE. 8? 

your music the better : 4 if it do not, it is a vice in her ears, 
which horse-hairs and catgut, nor the voice of unpaved 5 
eunuch to boot, can never amend. [Exeunt Musicians. 

2 Lord. Here comes the King. 

Clo. I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason I 
was up so early : he cannot choose but take this service I 
have done fatherly. — 

Enter Cymbeline and the Queen. 

Good morrow to your Majesty and to my gracious mother. 

Cyni. Attend you here the door of our stern daughter? 
Will she not forth ? 

Clo. I have assail'd her with music, but she vouchsafes 
no notice. 

Cynt. The exile of her minion is too new ; 
She hath nor yet forgot him : some more time 
Must wear the print of his remembrance out, 
And then she's yours. 

Queen. You are most bound to th' King, 

Who lets go by no vantages that may 
Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself 
To orderly soliciting, and be friended 
With aptness of the season ; make denials 
Increase your services ; so seem as if 
You were inspired to do those duties which 
You tender to her ; that you in all obey her, 
Save when command to your dismission tends, 
And therein you are senseless. 

Clo. Senseless ! not so. 

4 Meaning, " I will pay you the more liberally for it." 

5 The word unpaved is superfluous here. An unpaved man is an eunuch. 



88 CYMBELINE. ACT II. 

Enter a Messenger. 

Mess. So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome ; 
The one is Caius Lucius. 

Cym. A worthy fellow, 

Albeit he comes on angry purpose now ; 
But that's no fault of his : we must receive him 
According to the honour of his sender ; 
And towards himself, his goodness forespent on us, 
We must extend our notice. 6 — Our dear son, 
When you have given good morning to your mistress, 
Attend the Queen and us ; we shall have need 
T' employ you towards this Roman. — Come, our Queen. 

[Exeunt all but Cloten. 

Clo. If she be up, I'll speak with her ; if not, 
Let her lie still and dream. — By your leave, ho ! — [Knocks. 
I know her women are about her : what 
If I do line one of their hands? Tis gold 
Which buys admittance ; oft it doth ; yea, makes 
Diana's rangers false themselves, 7 yield up 
Their deer to th' stand o' the stealer : 8 and 'tis gold 
Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the thief; 

6 " We must extend towards himself our notice of the goodness he has 
heretofore shown us." The Poet has many similar ellipses. 

7 The use of to false for to falsify or to perjure was not uncommon. See 
Tempest, page 53, note 27. — " Diana's rangers " are the train of virgin hun- 
tresses that used to " range the forest wild " in attendance upon the god- 
dess. Of course they were deeply sworn to chastity. See Othello, page 
177, note 2. 

8 A stand, as the word seems to be used here, was an artificial place of 
concealment in a deer-park, where the hunter could lurk, and pick off the 
animals as they passed by. Such stands, or standings, were commonly 
made for the special convenience of ladies engaging in the sport. But the 
keeper of a park might betray his trust, and let a deer-stealer have the ad- 
vantage of the place. Such appears to be the allusion here. 



SCENE III. CYMBELINE. 89 

Nay, sometime hangs both thief and true man : what 
Can it not do and undo ? I will make 
One of her women lawyer to me ; for 
I yet not understand the case myself. — 
By your leave. [Knocks. 

Enter a Lady. 

Lady. Who's there that knocks? 

Clo. A gentleman. 

Lady. No more ? 

Clo. Yes, and a gentlewoman's son. 

Lady. That's more 

Than some, whose tailors are as dear as yours, 
Can justly boast of. What's your lordship's pleasure? 

Clo. Your lady's person : is she ready ? 

Lady. Ay, 

To keep her chamber. 

Clo. There is gold for you ; 

Sell me your good report. 

Lady. How ! my good name ? or to report of you 
What I shall think is good ? The Princess ! 

Enter Imogen. 

Clo. Good morrow, fairest : sister, your sweet hand. 

{Exit Lady. 

Lmo. Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains 
For purchasing but trouble : the thanks I give 
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks, 
And scarce can spare them. 

Clo. Still, I swear I love you. 

Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me : 
If you swear still, your recompense is still 
That I regard it not. 



90 CYMBELINE. ACT II. 

Clo. This is no answer. 

Imo. But that you shall not say, I yield being silent, 
I would not speak. I pray you, spare me : faith, 
I shall unfold equal discourtesy 
To your best kindness : one of your great knowing 
Should learn, being taught, forbearance. 

Clo. To leave you in your madness, 'twere my sin : 
I will not. 

Imo. Fools cure not mad folks. 

Clo. Do you call me fool? 

Imo. As I am mad, I do : 
If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad; 
That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir, 
You put me to forget a lady's manners, 
By being so verbal : 9 and learn now, for all, 
That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce, 
By th' very truth of it, I care not for you ; 
And am so near the lack of charity, — 
T' accuse myself, — I hate you ; 10 which I had rather 
You felt than make't my boast. 

Clo. You sin against 

Obedience, which you owe your father. For 
The contract you pretend with that base wretch, — 
One bred of alms, and foster'd with cold dishes, 
With scraps o' the Court, — it is no contract, none : 
And though it be allow'd in meaner parties — 
Yet who than he more mean? — to knit their souls — 
On whom there is no more dependency 

9 This is commonly explained, " being so verbose, so full of talk." It 
rather seems to me, that Imogen refers to his forcing her thus to the dis- 
courtesy of expressing her mind to him, of putting her thoughts into words. 

10 " I am so near the lack of charity as to hate you," is the meaning. 



SCENE III. CYMBELINE. 9 1 

But brats and beggary — in self-figured knot ; n 
Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by 
The consequence o' the crown ; and must not soil 
The precious note of it with a base slave, 
A hilding for a livery, 12 a squire's cloth, 
A pantler, — not so eminent. 

Into. Profane fellow ! 

Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more 
But what thou art besides, thou wert too base 
To be his groom : thou wert dignified enough, 
Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made 
Comparative for your virtues, to be styled 
The under-hangman of his kingdom ; and hated 
For being preferr'd so well. 13 

Clo. The south-fog rot him ! 

Into. He never can meet more mischance than come 
To be but named of thee. His meanest garment, 
That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer 
In my respect than all the hairs above thee, 
Were they all made such men. — Ho, now, Pisanio ! 

Enter Pisanio. 



11 In knots of their own tying ; that is, marrying to suit themselves ; 
whereas the expectant of a throne must marry to serve the interests of his 
or her position. 

12 A vile wretch, only fit to wear a livery, which was a badge of servitude. 
Hilding was a common term of reproach. See Henry V., page 127, note 4. — 
Cloth seems to be in apposition with livery ; or, as a squire was properly 
the servant of a knight, it may carry the further meaning of being servant to 
a servant, and badged accordingly. 

13 " If your dignity were made proportionable to your merits, you were 
honoured enough in being styled the under-hangman of his kingdom ; and 
even that place would be so much too good for you as to make you an ob- 
ject of envy and hatred." 



92 CYMBELINE. ACT II. 

Clo. His garment ! Now, the Devil — 

Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently ; — 

Clo. His garment! 

L?io. I am sprighted with a fool ; 14 

Frighted, and anger'd worse ; — go bid my woman 
Search for a jewel that too casually 
Hath left mine arm : it was thy master's ; 'shrew me, 
If I would lose it for a revenue 
Of any king's in Europe. I do think 
I saw't this morning : confident I am 
Last night 'twas on mine arm ; I kiss'd it : 
I hope it be not gone to tell my lord 
That I kiss aught but he. 

Pis. 'Twill not be lost. 

Imo. I hope so : go and search. \_Exit Pisanio. 

Clo. You have abused me : 

His meanest garment / 

Imo. Ay, I said so, sir : 

If you will make't an action, call witness to't. 

Clo. I will inform your father. 

Imo. Your mother too : 

She's my good lady ; 15 and will conceive, I hope, 
But the worst of me. So, I leave you, sir, 
To th' worst of discontent. [Exit. 

Clo. I'll be revenged. 

His meanest garment / Well. [Exit. 

14 Haunted by a fool, as by a spright, is the meaning. 

15 This is said ironically. To be my good lord or good lady was to be my 
particular friend or patron. See 2 King Henry IV., page 147, note 3. 



I 

SCENE IV. CYMBEL1NE. 93 



Scene IV. — Rome. An Apartment in Philario's House. 
Enter Posthumus and Philario. 

Post. Fear it not, sir : I would I were so sure 
To win the King, as I am bold her honour 
Will remain hers. 

Phi. What means do you make to him ? 

Post Not any ; but abide the change of time ; 
Quake in the present Winter's state, and wish 
That warmer days would come : in these sere hopes, 1 
I barely gratify your love ; they failing, 
I must die much your debtor. 

Phi. Your very goodness and your company 
O'erpays all I can do. By this, your King 
Hath heard of great Augustus : Caius Lucius 
Will do's commission throughly ; and I think 
He'll grant the tribute, send th' arrearages, 
Or 2 look upon our Romans, whose remembrance 
Is yet fresh in their grief. 

Post. I do believe — 

Statist 3 though I am none, nor like to be — 
That this will prove a war ; and you shall hear 
The legions now in Gallia sooner landed 
In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings 
Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen 

1 "Sere hopes " are withered hopes ; as they would naturally be in their 
" Winter's state." See Macbeth, page 154, note 8. 

2 Or is an ancient equivalent for ere, as in the phrase or ever ; and such 
is plainly the sense of it here. See The Tempest, page 49, note 3. 

3 Statist is an old word for politician ; so used still ; as in Wordsworth's 
Poet's Epitaph ; " Art thou a Statist in the van of public conflicts trained 
and bred ? " 



94 CYMBELINE. 

Are men more order'd than when Julius Caesar 

Smiled at their lack of skill, but found their courage 

Worthy his frowning at : their discipline 

Now mingled with their courage will make known 

To their approvers 4 they are people such 

That mend upon the world. 

Phi. See ! Iachimo ! 

Enter Iachimo. 

Post. The swiftest harts have posted you by land ; 
And winds of all the corners kiss'd your sails, 
To make your vessel nimble. 

Phi. Welcome, sir. 

Post. I hope the briefness of your answer made 
The speediness of your return. 

Iach. Your lady 

Is one o' the fairest that I've look'd upon. 

Post. And therewithal the best ; or let her beauty 
Look through a casement to allure false hearts, 
And be false with them. 

Iach. Here are letters for you. 

Post. Their tenour good, I trust. 

Iach. 'Tis very like. 

Phi. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain Court 
When you were there ? 

Iach. He was expected then, 

But not approach'd. 

Post. x\ll is well yet. 

Sparkles this stone as it was wont? or is't not 
Too dull for your good wearing ? 

4 Those who try them, ox put them to the proof. 



SCENE IV. CYMBELINE. 95 

lack. If I had lost it, 

I should have lost the worth of it in gold. 
I'll make a journey twice as far, t' enjoy 
A second night of such sweet shortness which 
Was mine in Britain ; for the ring is won. 

Post. The stone's too hard to come by. 

lack. Not a whit, 

Your lady being so easy. 

Post. Make not, sir, 

Your loss your sport : I hope you know that we 
Must not continue friends. 

Iach. Good sir, we must, 

If you keep covenant. Had I not brought 
The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant 
We were to question further : but I now 
Profess myself the winner of her honour, 
Together with your ring ; and not the wronger 
Of her or you, having proceeded but 
By both your wills. 

Post. If you can make't apparent, my hand 
And ring is yours ; if not, the foul opinion 
You had of her pure honour gains or loses 
Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves both 
To who shall find them. 

Iach. Sir, my circumstances, 

Being so near the truth as I will make them, 
Must first induce you to believe ; whose strength 
I will confirm with oath ; which, I doubt not, 
You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find 
You need it not. 

Post. Proceed. 

Iach. First, her bedchamber, — 



g6 CYMBELINE. ACT II. 

Where, I confess, I slept not, — it was hang'd 
With tapestry of silk and silver ; the story 
Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, 
And Cydnus swelPd above the banks, or for 
The press of boats or pride : a piece of work 
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive 
In workmanship and value ; which I wonder'd 
Could be so rarely and exactly wrought, 
Since the true life on't was 5 — 

Post. This is true ; 

And this you might have heard of here, by me 
Or by some other. 

Iach. More particulars * 

Must justify my knowledge. 

Post. So they must, 

Or do your honour injury. 

Iach. The chimney 

Is south the chamber ; and the chimney-piece 
Chaste Dian bathing : never saw I figures 
So likely to report themselves : the cutter 
Was as another Nature, dumb ; 6 outwent her, 
Motion and breath left out. 

Post. This is a thing 

Which you might from relation likewise reap, 
Being, as it is, much spoke of. 

Iach. The roof o' the chamber 

5 " Iachimo's language," says Johnson, " is such as a skilful villain would 
naturally use ; a mixture of airy triumph and serious deposition. His gayety 
shows his seriousness to be without anxiety, and his seriousness proves his 
gayety to be without art." 

6 A speaking picture is a common figurative expression. The meaning 
of the passage is : " The sculptor was as Nature dumb ; he gave every thing 
that Nature gives but breath and motion." In breath is included speech. 



I 

scene IV. CYMBELINE. 97 

With golden cherubins is fretted : her andirons — 
I had forgot them — were two winking Cupids 
Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely 
Depending on their brands. 7 

Post. This is her honour ! 

Let it be granted you have seen all this, — and praise 
Be given to your remembrance, — the description 
Of what is in her chamber nothing saves 
The wager you have laid. 

Jack. Then, if you can, 

[Pulling out the bracelet. 
Be pale : I beg but leave to air this jewel ; see ! 
And now 'tis up again : it must be married 
To that your diamond ; I'll keep them. 

Post. Jove ! 

Once more let me behold it : is it that 
Which I left with her? 

lack. Sir, — I thank her, — that : 

She stripp'd it from her arm ; I see her yet; 
Her pretty action did outsell her gift, 
And yet enrich'd it too : she gave it me, and said 
She prized it once. 

Post. May be she pluck'd it off 

To send it me. 

lack. She writes so to you, doth she? 

Post. O, no, no, no ! 'tis true. Here, take this too ; 

[Gives the ring. 

7 The andirons of our ancestors were sometimes costly pieces of furniture ; 
the standards were often, as in this instance, of silver, and representing some 
terminal figure or device ; the transverse or horizontal pieces, upon which 
the wood was supported, were what Shakespeare here calls the brands, prop- 
erly brandirons. Upon these the Cupids which formed the standards nicely 
depended, seeming to stand on one foot. 



98 CYMBELINE. A 

It is a basilisk 8 unto mine eye, 
Kills me to look on't. Let there be no honour 
Where there is beauty ; truth, where semblance ; love, 
Where there's another man : the vows of women 
Of no more bondage 9 be, to where they're made, 
Than they are to their virtues ; which is nothing. 
O, above measure false ! 

Phi. Have patience, sir, 

And take your ring again ; 'tis not yet won : 
It may be probable she lost it ; or 
Who knows if one o' her women, being corrupted, 
Hath stol'n it from her ? 

Post. Very true \ 

And so, I hope, he came by't. — Back my ring : 
Render to me some corporal sign about her, 
More evident than this ; for this was stol'n. 

lack. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm. 

Post. Hark you, he swears ; by Jupiter he swears. 
'Tis true, — nay, keep the ring, — 'tis true. I'm sure 
She would not lose it : her attendants are 
All sworn 10 and honourable. They induced to steal it? 
And by a stranger ? No ! — 
There, take thy hire ; and all the fiends of Hell 
Divide themselves between you ! 

Phi. Sir, be patient : 

This is not strong enough to be believed 



8 The basilisk was an imaginary reptile of strange powers, to which the 
Poet has many allusions. See King Richard III., page 59, note 15. 

9 Bondage for binding force or efficacy. An odd use of the word. 

10 It was anciently the custom for the servants of great families (as it is 
now for the servants of the King) to take an oath of fidelity on their entrance 
into office. 



I 

SCENE V. CYMBELINE. 99 

Of one persuaded well of — 

Post. Never talk on't. 

lack. If you seek for further satisfying, 
Under her breast there lies a mole, right proud 
Of that most delicate lodging. You do remember 
This stain upon her? 

Post. Ay ; and it doth confirm 

Another stain, as big as Hell can hold, 
Were there no more but it. 

lack. Will you hear more ? 

Post. Spare your arithmetic. 

lack. I'll be sworn — 

Post. No swearing. 

O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal ! 
I will go there and do't ; i' the Court ; before 
Her father. I'll do something — \_Exit. 

Phi. Quite beside 

The government of patience ! You have won : 
Let's follow him, and pervert 11 the present wrath 
He hath against himself. 

lack. With all my heart. [Exeunt. 

Scene V. — The Same. Another Room in Philario's House. 
Enter Posthumus. 

Post. Could I find out 
The woman's part in me ! For there's no motion 
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm 



11 Avert. To pervert a thing means properly to turn or wrest it utterly 
away from its appointed end or purpose ; the per having merely an inten- 
sive force. 



IOO CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

It is the woman's part : be't lying, note it 

The woman's ; flattering, hers ; deceiving, hers ; 

Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers ; revenges, hers ; 

Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain, 

Nice longing, slanders, mutability, 

All faults that may be named, nay, that Hell knows, 

Why, hers, in part or all ; but rather, all : 

For even to vice 

They are not constant, but are changing still 

One vice, but of a minute old, for one 

Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, 

Detest them, curse them : yet 'tis greater skill 

In a true hate, to pray they have their will ; 

The very devils cannot plague them better. \_Exit. 



ACT III. 

Scene I. — Britain. A Room of State in Cymbeline's Palace. 

Enter, from one side, Cymbeline, the Queen, Cloten, and 
Lords ; from the other, Caius Lucius and Attendants. 

Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Csesar with us? 

Luc. When Julius Csesar — whose remembrance yet 
Lives in men's eyes, and will to ears and tongues 
Be theme and hearing ever — was in this Britain 
And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle, — 
Famous in Caesar's praises, no whit less 
Than in his feats deserving it, — for him 
And his succession granted Rome a tribute, 



SCENE I. CYMBELINE. IOI 

Yearly three thousand pounds ; which by thee lately 
Is left untender'd. 

Queen. And, to kill the marvel, 

Shall be so ever. 

Clo. There be many Caesars, 

Ere such another Julius. Britain is 
A world by itself; and we will nothing pay 
For wearing our own noses. 

Queen. That opportunity, 

Which then they had to take from's, to resume 
We have again. — Remember, sir, my liege, 
The Kings your ancestors ; together with 
The natural bravery of your isle, which stands 
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in l 
With rocks unscaleable and roaring waters ; 
With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats, 
But suck them up to th' topmast. A kind of conquest 
Caesar made here ; but made not here his brag 
Of Came, and saw, and overcame : with shame — 
The first that ever touch'd him — he was carried 
From off our coast, twice beaten ; and his shipping — 
Poor ignorant baubles ! — on our terrible seas, 
Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack'd 
As easily 'gainst our rocks : for joy whereof 
The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point — 
O giglot 2 Fortune ! — to master Caesar's sword, 
Made Lud's-town with rejoicing fires bright, 
And Britons strut with courage. 

Clo. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid : our king- 

1 Ribbed is enclosed ox fenced-in, as paled is surrounded with palings. 

2 Giglot, adjective, is false, or inconstant. The word was also used sub- 
stantively, in a similar sense. 



102 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

dom is stronger than it was at that time ; and, as I said, there 
is no more such Caesars : other of them may have crooked 
noses ; but to owe such straight arms, none. 3 

Cym. Son, let your mother end. 

Clo. We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as 
Cassibelan : I do not say I am one ; but I have a hand. — 
Why tribute? why should we pay tribute? If Caesar can 
hide the Sun from us with a blanket, or put the Moon in his 
pocket, we will pay him tribute for light ; else, sir, no more 
tribute, pray you now. 

Cym. You must know, 
Till the injurious Romans did extort 
This tribute from us, we were free : Caesar's ambition, — 
Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch 
The sides o' the world, — against all colour, 4 here 
Did put the yoke upon's ; which to shake off 
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon 
Ourselves to be. 

Clo. We do. 

Cym. Say, then, to Caesar, 

Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which 
Ordain' d our laws, whose use the sword of Caesar 
Hath too much mangled ; whose repair and franchise 
Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed, 
Though Rome be therefore angry. Mulmutius made our 

laws, 
Who was the first of Britain which did put 
His brows within a golden crown, and call'd 

3 The pith and shrewdness of this ungeared and loose-screwed genius 
here go right to the mark, although they go off out of time. Of course, to 
owe means to own, as usual. 

4 Against all colour or appearance of right. 



i 

SCENE I. CYMBELINE. IO3 

Himself a king. 5 

Luc. I'm sorry, Cymbeline, 

That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar — 
Caesar, that hath more kings his servants than 
Thyself domestic officers — thine enemy. 
Receive it from me, then : War and confusion 
In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee : look 
For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied, 
I thank thee for myself. 

Cym. Thou'rt welcome, Caius. 

Thy Caesar knighted me ; my youth I spent 
Much under him ; of him I gather'd honour ; 
Which he to seek of me again, perforce, 
Behoves me keep at utterance. 6 I am perfect 7 
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for 
Their liberties are now in arms, — a precedent 
Which not to read would show the Britons cold : 



5 Here Holinshed was the Poet's authority : " Mulmutius, the son of Clo- 
ten, got the upper hand of the other dukes or rulers ; and, after his father's 
decease, began to reign over the whole monarchy of Britain, in the year of 
the world 3529. He made many good laws, which were long after used, 
called Mulmutius' laws. After he had established his land, he ordained 
him, by the advice of his lords, a crown of gold, and caused himself with 
great solemnity to be crowned. And because he was the first that bore a 
crown here in Britain, after the opinion of some writers, he is named the first 
king of Britain, and all the other before rehearsed are named rulers, dukes, 
or governors." 

6 A very elliptical passage. The meaning appears to be, " Of him I 
gather'd honour ; which, he being now about to force it away from me, / 4 
a?n bound to maintain to the last extremity." At utterance is to the utter- 
most of defiance. So in Helyas Knight of the Swan : "Here is my gage to 
sustain it to the utterance, and befight it to the death." See Macbeth, page 
100, note 13. 

7 Perfect is repeatedly used by Shakespeare for well informed or assured. 
See The Winter's Tale, page 96, note 1. 



104 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

So Caesar shall not find them. 

Luc. Let proof speak. 

Clo. His Majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with 
us a day or two, or longer : if you seek us afterwards in other 
terms, you shall find us in our salt-water girdle : if you beat 
us out of it, it is yours ; if you fall in the adventure, our 
crows shall fare the better for you ; and there's an end. 

Luc. So, sir. 

Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he mine : 
All the remain is, Welcome. [Exeunt. 



Scene II. — The Same. Another Room in the Palace. 

Enter Pisanio, with a letter. 

Pis. How ! of adultery ? Wherefore write you not 
What monster's her accuser ? Leonatus ! 
O master ! what a strange infection 
Is fall'n into thy ear ! What false Italian, 
As poisonous-tongued as handed, hath prevail'd 
On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal ! No : 
She's punish'd for her truth j 1 and undergoes, 
More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults 
As would take-in 2 some virtue. O my master ! 
Thy mind to her is now as low as were 
Thy fortunes. 3 How ! that I should murder her? 
Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I 
Have made to thy command? I, her? her blood? 

1 Truth, here, is fidelity, truthfulness to her marriage-vows. 

2 To take-in is to conquer ; often so used. 

3 Thy mind compared to hers is now as low as thy condition was com- 
pared to hers before marriage. 



I 

SCENE II. CYMBELINE. 105 

If it be so to do good service, never 

Let me be counted serviceable. How look I, 

That I should seem to lack humanity 

So much as this fact comes to? Do't: the letter 

That I have sent her, by her own command 

Shall give thee opportunity* O damn'd paper ! 

Black as the ink that's on thee ! Senseless bauble, 

Art thou a fedary 5 for this act, and look'st 

So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes. 

I'm ignorant in what I am commanded. 6 

Enter Imogen. 

Imo. How now, Pisanio ! 

Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord. 

Imo. Who ? thy lord ? that is my lord, Leonatus ? 
O, learn'd indeed were that astronomer 
That knew the stars as I his characters ; 
He'd lay the future open. — You good gods, 
Let what is here contain 'd relish of love, 
Of my lord's health, of his content, — yet not 
That we two are asunder ; let that grieve him : 
Some griefs are med'cinable ; 7 that is one of them, 
For it doth physic love, — of his content 
In all but that ! — Good wax, thy leave. Bless'd be 

4 I print this as a quotation from the letter, though, as afterwards 
appears, the words are not found there. Pisanio is but repeating, in his own 
words, the substance of the letter while holding it in his hand. 

5 A fedary is properly a subordinate agent; but the word may here 
signify an accomplice or co?ifederate. See The Winter s Tale, page 65, note 7. 

6 Meaning, apparently, I will seem ignorant, will speak as if I were ignor- 
ant, of what is enjoined upon me. 

7 Medicinable for medicinal ; the passive form with the sense of the 
active ; a common usage in the Poet's time. 



I06 CYMBEL1NE. ACT III. 

You bees that make these locks of counsel ! Lovers, 
And men in dangerous bonds, pray not alike : 
Though forfeiters you cast in prison, 8 yet 
You clasp young Cupid's tables. — Good news, gods ! 

[Reads.] Justice, and your fathei's wrath, should he take 
me in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me, but you, O 
the deai'est of creatu7'es, would even reiiew me with your eyes. 
Take notice that I am in Cambria, at Milf or d- Haven : what 
your own love will, out of this, advise you, follow. So, he 
wishes you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and 
your, increasing in love, Leonatus Posthumus. 

O, for a horse with wings ! — Hear'st thou, Pisanio ? 

He is at Milford-Haven : read, and tell me 

How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs 

May plod it in a week, why may not I 

Glide thither in a day ? Then, true Pisanio, — 

Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord ; who long'st, — 

O, let me 'bate, — but not like me ; — yet long'st, — 

But in a fainter kind ; — O, not like me ; 

For mine's beyond beyond ; — say, and speak thick, 9 — 

Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing, 

To th' smothering of the sense, — how far it is 

To this same blessed Milford : and, by th' way, 

Tell me how Wales was made so happy as 

T' inherit such a haven : but, first of all, 

How we may steal from hence ; and for the gap 

8 Referring to the use of wax in sealing and authenticating legal instru- 
ments, such as warrants for the apprehension and confinement of criminals, 
or those who have forfeited their freedom. Imogen is playing on the dif- 
ferent uses of sealing-wax in locking up the counsel of lovers and the per- 
sons of what she calls forfeiters. 

9 To speak thick is to speak fast. See Macbeth, page 59, note 23. 



SCENE II. CYMBELINE. IO7 

That we shall make in time, from our hence-going 

Till our return, t' excuse : 10 but first, how to get hence : 

Why should excuse be born or e'er begot? n 

We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak : 

How many score of miles may we well ride 

'Twixt hour and hour ? 12 

Pis. One score 'twixt sun and sun, 

Madam, 's enough for you, and too much too. 

Imo. Why, one that rode to's execution, man, 
Could never go so slow : I've heard of riding- wagers, 13 
Where horses have been nimbler than the sands 
That run i' the clock's behalf : 14 but this is foolery. 
Go bid my woman feign a sickness ; say 
She'll home to her father : and provide me presently 
A riding-suit, no costlier than would fit 
A franklin's housewife. 15 

Pis. Madam, you're best 16 consider. 

Imo. I see before me, man : nor here, nor here, 
Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them, 

10 How to excuse for the gap that we shall make in time. 

11 Before the act is done for which excuse will be necessary. 

12 Between the same hours of morning and evening ; or between six and 
six, as between sunrise and sunset, in the next speech. 

13 This practice was common in Shakespeare's time. Fynes Moryson, 
speaking of his brother's putting out money to be paid with interest on his 
return from Jerusalem, defends it as an honest means of gaining the charges 
of his journey, especially when " no meane lords and lords' sonnes, and 
gentlemen in our court, put out money ttpon a horse-race under themselves, 
yea, upon a journey afoote." 

14 That is, instead of the clock. The reference is to the sand of an hour- 
glass. The meaning is, swifter than the flight of time. 

15 A franklin is a yeoman, or farmer. 

16 Shakespeare has many such contractions oi you were; and such ex- 
pressions as you were best for it were best you should are common in his 
plays ; and are not unused even yet, especially in colloquial speech. 



108 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

That I cannot look through. 17 Away, I pr'ythee ! 

Do as I bid thee : there's no more to say ; 

Accessible is none but Milford way. [Exeunt. 



Scene III. — The Same. Wales : a mountainous Country 
with a Cave. 

Enter, from the cave, Belarius; then Guederius and Arvi- 

ragus. 

Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such 
'Whose roofs as low as ours ! Stoop, boys : this gate 
Instructs you how t' adore the Heavens, and bows you 
To morning's holy office : the gates of monarchs 
Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet l through 
And keep their impious turbans on, without 
Good morrow to the Sun. — Hail, thou fair heaven ! 
We house i' the rock, yet use thee not so hardly 
As prouder livers do. 

Gui. Hail, heaven ! 

Arv. Hail, heaven ! 

Bel. Now for our mountain sport : up to yond hill, 
Your legs are young ; I'll tread these flats. Consider, 
When you above perceive me like a crow, 
That it is place which lessens and sets off; 
And you may then revolve what tales I've told you 

17 Imogen here speaks with her hand as well as with her tongue. 
" Neither the right side, nor the left, nor what is behind me, but have a 
dense fog in them : the path straight before me to Milford is the only one 
where I can see my way." See, however, Critical Notes. 

1 To jet is to walk proudly, to strut. See Twelfth Night, page 75, note 
5. In the popular idea, a giant was generally confounded with a Saracen. 
The two commonly figured together in the romances. 



I 

SCENE III. CYMBELINE. IO9 

Of Courts, of princes, of the tricks in war ; 
That service is not service, so being done, 
But being so allow'd : 2 to apprehend thus, 
Draws us a profit from all things we see ; 
And often, to our comfort, shall we find 
The sharded 3 beetle in a safer hold 
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life 
Is nobler than attending for a check, 
Richer than doing nothing for a bribe, 4 



2 Here, as usual, allow'd is approved or estimated. 

3 Sharded is scaly-winged. See Macbeth, page 107, note 13. — The epithet 
full-winged, applied to the eagle, sufficiently marks the contrast of the Poet's 
imagery ; for, whilst the bird can soar beyond the reach of human eye, the 
insect can but just rise above the surface of the earth, and that at the close 
of day. 

4 In illustration of this, Lettsom quotes from Greene's James IV. : " But 
he, injurious man, who lives by crafts, hath taken bribes of me, yet covertly 
will sell away the thing pertains to me" ; and then adds, " This shows how a 
man may do nothing, or worse than nothing, for a bribe; a feat that seems 
incomprehensible to the primitive simplicity of the nineteenth century." 
Lord Bacon, when charged with taking gifts from parties in chancery suits, 
admitted that he had done so, but alleged that he had decided against the 
givers. Perhaps they thought him open to the charge of" doing nothing for 
a bribe." But the best comment on the text is in Mother Hubbard's Tale, 
where Spenser describes the condition of one " whom wicked fate hath 
brought to Court " : 

Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, 
What hell it is in suing long to bide : 
To lose good days, that might be better spent ; 
To waste long nights in pensive discontent ; 
To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; 
To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow ; 
To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her Peers' ; 
To have thy asking, yet wait many years ; 
To fret thy soul with crosses and with cares ; 
To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs ; 
To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run, 
To spend, to give, to want, to be undone. 
Unhappy wight, born to disastrous end, 
That doth his life in so long tendance spend! 



110 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk : 
Such gain the cap of him that makes 'em fine, 
Yet keep his book uncross'd : 5 no life to ours. 

Gui. Out of your proof you speak : we, poor unfledged, 
Have never wing'd from view o' the nest, nor know not 
What air's from home. Haply this life is best, 
If quiet life be best ; sweeter to you 
That have a sharper known ; well corresponding 
With your stiff age : but unto us it is 
.A cell of ignorance ; travelling a-bed ; 
A prison for a debtor, that not dares 
To stride a limit. 6 

Arv. What should we speak of 

When we are old as you ? when we shall hear 
The rain and wind beat dark December, how, 
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse 
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing: 
We're beastly ; subtle as the fox for prey ; 
Like warlike as the wolf for what we eat : 
Our valour is to chase what flies ; our cage 
We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird, 
And sing our bondage freely. 

Bel. How you speak ! 

Did you but know the city's usuries, 7 

5 Such men gain the bow of civility from their tailor, but remain still in 
debt to him, leave their account unsettled. To cross the book is still a com- 
mon phrase for wiping out an entry of debt. — " No life to ours " is no life 
compared to ours. 

6 To stride a limit is to overpass his bound. 

? Usuries, here, seems to mean simply usages or customs. The Poet has 
it so again in Measure for Measure, iii. 2 : " 'Twas never merry world since, 
of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser allow'd by order 
of law a furr'd gown to keep him warm." In this latter case, however, the 
word is used in a double sense, for tisuries and usages at the same time. 



SCENE III. CYMBELINE. Ill 

And felt them knowingly ! the art o' the Court, 

As hard to leave as keep ; whose top to climb 

Is certain falling, or so slippery that 

The fear's as bad as falling ; the toil o' the war, 

A pain that only seems to seek out danger 

I' the name of fame and honour ; which dies i' the search ; 

And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph 

As record of fair act ; nay, many times 

Doth ill deserve 8 by doing well ; what's worse, 

Must curtsy at the censure. O boys, this story 

The world may read in me : my body's mark'd 

With Roman swords ; and my report was once 

First with the best of note : Cymbeline loved me ; 

And, when a soldier was the theme, my name 

Was not far off. Then was I as a tree 

Whose boughs did bend with fruit ; but, in one night, 

A storm or robbery, call it what you will, 

Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, 

And left me bare to weather. 

Gut. Uncertain favour ! 

Bel. My fault being nothing, — as I've told you oft, — 
But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd 
Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline 
I was confederate with the Romans : so, 
Follow'd my banishment ; and, this twenty years, 
This rock and these demesnes have been my world ; 
Where I have lived at honest freedom ; paid 
More pious debts to Heaven than in all 
The fore-end of my time. But, up to th' mountains ! 

8 The context requires, apparently, the sense of receive. But perhaps 
deserve is meant in the sense of see?ning to deserve ill, or of being treated as 
if deserving ill. See page 105, note 6. 



112 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

This is not hunters' language : he that strikes 

The venison first shall be the lord o' the feast ; 

To him the other two shall minister ; 

And we will fear no poison, which attends 

In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys. — 

[Exeunt Guiderius and Arviragus. 
How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature ! 
These boys know little they are sons to th' King ; 
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive. 
They think they're mine ; and, though train 'd up thus meanly, 
I' the cave wherein they bow their thoughts do hit 
The roofs of palaces ; and nature prompts them, 
In simple and low things, to prince it much 
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore, 
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom 
The King his father call'd Guiderius, — Jove ! 
When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell 
The warlike feats I've done, his spirits fly out 
Into my story : say, Thus mine enemy fell, 
And thus I set my foot on's neck ; even then 
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats, 
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture 
That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal, 
Once Arviragus, in as like a figure, 
Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more 
His own conceiving. Hark, the game is roused ! — 
O Cymbeline ! Heaven and my conscience knows 
Thou didst unjustly banish me ; whereon, 
At three and two years old, I stole these babes ; 
Thinking to bar thee of succession, as 
Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile, 
Thou wast their nurse ; they took thee for their mother, 



I 

SCENE IV. CYMBEL1NE. 1 1 3 

And every day do honour to her grave : 9 

Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd, 

They take for natural father. — The game is up. \_Exit 

Scene IV. — The Same. Near Milford-Haven. 
Enter Pisanio and Imogen. 

Into. Thou told'st me, when we came from horse, the place 
Was near at hand : ne'er long'd my mother so 
To see me first, as I do now. 1 Pisanio ! man ! 
Where is Posthumus ? What is in thy mind, 
That makes thee stare thus ? Wherefore breaks that sigh 
From th' inward of thee ? One but painted thus 
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd 
Beyond self-explication : put thyself 
Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness 
Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter? 
Why tender'st thou that paper to me, with 
A look untender? If't be summer news, 
Smile to't before ; if winterly, thou need'st 
But keep that countenance still. — My husband's hand ! 
That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-crafted him, 
And he's at some hard point. — Speak, man : thy tongue 
May take off some extremity, 2 which to read 
Would be even mortal to me. 

Pis. Please you, read ; 

And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing 

9 Strict grammatical order requires " to her grave " ; but Shakespeare 
has many like instances of abrupt change of person. See page 53, note 10. 

1 Meaning, evidently, as I now long to see Posthumus. 

2 " Thy speech may take off some of the extreme sharpness or bitterness 
of the news contained in the letter. 



114 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

The most disdain'd of fortune. 

Imo. [Reads.] Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath plafd the 
wanton to my bed; the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in 
me. I speak not out of weak surmises; but from proof as 
strong as my grief and as certain as I expect my revenge. 
That part thou, Pisanio, must act for nie, if thy faith be not 
tainted with the breach of hers. Let thine own hands take 
away her life : I shall give thee opportunity at Milford- 
Haven : she hath my letter for the pmpose : where, if thou 
fear to strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou art 
the pander to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal. 

Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword ? the paper 
Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander ; 
Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue 
Outvenoms all the worms 3 of Nile ; whose breath 
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie 
All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, 4 
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave 
This viperous slander enters. — What cheer, madam? 

Imo. False to his bed ! What is it to be false ? 
To lie in watch there, and to think on him? 
To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep charge nature, 
To break it with a fearful dream of him, 
And cry myself awake? that's false to' s bed, is it? 

Pis. Alas, good lady ! 

Imo. I false ! Thy conscience witness. — Iachimo, 
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency ; 
Thou then look'dst like a villain ; now, methinks, 

3 Worm was the general name for all the serpent kind. In Antony and 
Cleopatra the aspic is repeatedly spoken of as a worm. 

4 States here means persons of the highest rank. 



SCENE IV. CYMBELINE. 1 1 5 

Thy favour's good enough. — Some jay of Italy, 

Whose mother was her painting, 5 hath betray'd him : 

Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion ; 

And, for I'm richer than to hang by th' walls, 

I must be ripp'd. 6 To pieces with me ! — O, 

Men's vows are women's traitors ! All good seeming, 

By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought 

Put on for villainy ; not born where't grows, 

But worn a bait for ladies. 

Pis. Good madam, hear me. 

Imo. True-honest men being heard, like false iEneas, 
Were, in his time, thought false ; and Sinon's weeping 
Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity 
From most true wretchedness : so thou, Posthiimus, 
Wilt lay the leaven 7 on all proper men ; 
Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured 

5 That is, who was born of her paint-box ; who had no beauty, no attrac- 
tion, no wotnanhood in her face but what was daubed on ; insomuch that she 
might be aptly styled the creature of her painting, one who had daubery for 
her mother. So, in King Lear, ii. 2, Kent says to Oswald, " You cowardly 
rascal, Nature disclaims in thee : a tailor made thee." And when Cornwall 
says to him, " Thou art a strange fellow : a tailor make a man ? " he replies, 
" Ay, a tailor, sir : a stone-cutter, or a painter, could not have made him so 
ill, though they had been but two hours at the trade." — The meaning of 
jay here is perhaps best explained by the fact that, in Italian, putta signifies 
both the bird so called and a loose woman. 

6 Too rich to be hung up as useless among the neglected contents of a 
wardrobe. Clothes were not formerly, as at present, kept in drawers, or 
given away as soon as time or change of fashion had impaired their value. 
On the contrary, they were hung up on wooden pegs, in a room appropriated 
to the purpose ; and, though such as were composed of rich substances were 
occasionally ripped for domestic uses, articles of inferior quality were suf- 
fered to hang by the walls till age and moths had destroyed them. 

7 The leaven is, in Scripture phraseology, " the whole wickedness of our 
sinful nature." See / Corinthians, v. 6, 7, 8. " Thy failure, Posthumus, will 
lay falsehood to the charge of men without guile ; make all suspected." 



Il6 CYMBELINE. ACT 

From thy great fail. — Come, fellow, be thou honest ; 

Do thou thy master's bidding : when thou see'st him, 

A little witness my obedience. Look ! 

I draw the sword myself : take it, and hit 

The innocent mansion of my love, my heart : 

Fear not ; 'tis empty of all things but grief : 

Thy master is not there ; who was, indeed, 

The riches of it : do his bidding ; strike. 

Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause ; 

But now thou seem'st a coward. 

Pis. Hence, vile instrument ! 

Thou shalt not damn my hand. 

Imo. Why, I must die ; 

And, if I do not by thy hand, thou art 
No servant of thy master's : 'gainst self-slaughter 
There is a prohibition so divine 

That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart : 
Something's afore 't : soft, soft ! we'll no defence ; 
Obedient as the scabbard. 8 — What is here? 
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus 
All turn'd to heresy ? 9 Away, away, 
Corrupters of my faith ! you shall no more 
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools 
Believe false teachers : though those that are betray'd 
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor 
Stands in worse case of woe. 



8 Imogen is wearing her husband's letters in her bosom, as a sort of 
armour over her heart : so her meaning here is, " Stay, stay a moment ! let 
me remove every thing in the nature of defence." She then takes out the 
letters, and they suggest to her the reflections that follow. 

9 Referring to her husband's letters, but at the same time intending an 
antithesis between Scriptural doctrine and heresy. 



I 

SCENE IV. CYMBELINE. 1 1 7 

And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up 

My disobedience 'gainst the King my father, 

And make me put into contempt the suits 

Of princely fellows, 10 shalt hereafter find 

It is no act of common passage, but 

A strain of rareness. — Pr'ythee, dispatch : 

The lamb entreats the butcher : where 's thy knife? 

Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding, 

When I desire it too. 

Pis. O gracious lady, 

Since I received command to do this business 
I have not slept one wink. 

Imo. Do't, and to bed then. 

Pis. I'll wake mine eyeballs blind first. 

Imo. Wherefore, then, 

Didst undertake it ? Why hast thou abused 
So many miles with a pretence ? this place ? 
Mine action, and thine own ? our horses' labour ? 
The time inviting thee ? the perturb'd Court 
For my being absent, 11 whereunto I never 
Purpose return ? Why hast thou gone so far,- 
To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand, 12 
Th' elected deer before thee ? 

Pis. But to win time 

To lose so bad employment ; in the which 
I have consider'd of a course. Good lady, 
Hear me with patience. 

10 Fellows for equals ; those of the same rank with herself. 

11 " The Court perturb'd by my being absent," is the proper construction. 
Shakespeare has many such inversions. 

12 Hunters' language. To be unbent is to have the bow unprepared for 
shooting. — The meaning of stand, here, is the same as explained before. 
See page 88, note 8, and the reference there. 



Il8 CYMBELINE. AC 

Imo. Talk thy tongue weary ; speak 

I've heard I am a wanton ; and mine ear, 
Therein false struck, can take no greater wound, 
Nor tent 13 to bottom that. But speak. 

Pis. Then, madam, 

I thought you would not back again. 

Imo. Most like, 

Bringing me here to kill me. 

Pis. Not so, neither : 

But, if I were as wise as honest, then 
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be 
But that my master is abused : 
Some villain, ay, and singular in his art, 
Hath done you both this cursed injury. 

Imo. Some Roman courtezan. 

Pis. No, on my life. 

I'll give but notice you are dead, and send him 
Some bloody sign of it j for 'tis commanded 
I should do so : you shall be miss'd at Court, 
And that will well confirm it. 

Imo. Why, good fellow, 

What shall I do the while ? where bide ? how live ? 
Or in my life what comfort, when I am 
Dead to my husband ? 

Pis. If you'll back to th' Court, — 

Imo. No Court, no father ; nor no more ado 
With that harsh, noble, simple nothing, Cloten ; 
That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me 
As fearful as a siege. 

Pis. If not at Court, 

Then not in Britain must you bide. 

13 The language of surgery. To tent is to probe. 



SCENE IV. CYMBELINE. 1 1 9 

Imo. What then ? 

Hath Britain all the Sun that shines ? Day, night, 
Are they not but in Britain? I' the world's volume, 
Our Britain seems as in it, but not oft ; 
In a great pool a swan's nest : pr'ythee, think 
There's livers out of Britain. 

Pis. I'm most glad 

You think of other place. Th' ambassador, 
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven 
To-morrow : now, if you could wear a mind 
Dark as your fortune is, 14 and but disguise 
That which, t' appear itself, must yet not be 
But by self-danger, you should tread a course 
Pretty and full of view ; 15 yea, haply, near 
The residence of Posthumus ; so nigh at least 
That though his actions were not visible, yet 
Report should render him hourly to your ear 
As truly as he moves. 

Imo. O, for such means ! 



14 " To wear a dark mind" says Johnson, " is to carry a mind impene- 
trable to the search of others. Darkness, applied to the mind, is secrecy ; 
applied to the fortune, is obscurity :" Pisanio's meaning probably is, to have 
Imogen carry out the disguise of her person by assuming a strange mental 
as well as personal attire. — Appear, in the next clause, is probably used as 
a transitive verb, and in the sense of to show, to evince, or to make apparent. 
The Poet has it repeatedly so. See Much Ado, page 36, note 2. 

15 Pretty must here be taken in the sense of apt or suitable to the pur- 
pose ; as when Lady Capulet says of Juliet, " My daughter's of a pretty 
age " ; meaning an age suitable for marriage. — Should is an instance of the 
indiscriminate use, which I have often noted, of could, should, and would. 
Here would is required by our present idiom. — So that the meaning of the 
whole appears to be, " The course proposed would be apt for your purpose, 
and you would have a full view of what is going on, without being yourself 
known." 



120 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

Though peril to my modesty, not death on't, 
I would adventure. 

Pis. Well, then, here's the point : 

You must forget to be a woman ; change 
Command into obedience ; fear and niceness — 
The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, 
Woman its pretty self — into a waggish courage ; 
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and 
As quarrelous as the weasel ; 16 nay, you must 
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, 
Exposing it — but, O, the harder heart ! 
Alack, no remedy ! — to the greedy touch 
Of common-kissing Titan ; 17 and forget 
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein 
You made great Juno angry. 18 

Into. Nay, be brief : 

I see into thy end, and am almost 
A man already. 

Pis. First, make yourself but like one. 

Fore-thinking this, I have already fit 19 — 

16 Weasels, it appears, were formerly kept in houses, instead of cats, for 
the purpose of destroying vermin. Shakespeare was doubtless well ac- 
quainted with their disposition. 

17 So in Sidney's Arcadia : " And beautiful might have been, if they had 
not suffered greedy Phoebus over often and hard to kisse them." — In " O, 
the harder heart ! " Pisanio apprehends that Imogen, in the part she is going 
to act, will feel the need of a man's harder, or tougher, heart. 

18 It seems as if the Poet meant to gather up the whole train of womanly 
graces and accomplishments in this peerless heroine : so he here represents 
her as a perfect mistress in the art of dressing, — so much so as to provoke 
the jealousy of Juno herself. And he appears to have deemed it not the 
least of a lady's duties to make herself just as beautiful and attractive as she 
could by beauty and tastefulness of dress ; this being one of her ways of 
delighting those about her. 

19 Fit for fitted. The Poet several times has the preterit of that verb so 



I 

SCENE IV. CYMBELINE. 121 

Tis in my cloak-bag — doublet, hat, hose, all 

That answer to them : would you, in their serving, 

And with what imitation you can borrow 

From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius 

Present yourself, desire his service, tell him 

Wherein you're happy, — which you'll make him know, 

If that his head have ear in music, — doubtless 

With joy he will embrace you ; for he's honourable, 

And, doubling that, most holy. 20 Your means abroad, 

You have me, 21 rich ; and I will never fail 

Beginning nor supplyment. 

Imo. Thou'rt all the comfort 

The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away : 
There's more to be consider'd ; but we'll even 
All that good time will give us : 22 this attempt 
I'm soldier to, and will abide it with 
A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee. 

Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell, 
Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of 
Your carriage from the Court. My noble mistress, 
Here is a box ; I had it from the Queen : 
What's in't is precious ; if you're sick at sea, 
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this 



formed. Thus in The Taming of the Shrew, Induction, I : " That part was 
aptly fit, and naturally perform'd." And in v. 5, of this play : " When she 
had fit you with her craft." Also in Jonson's Staple of News, i. 2 : " What, 
are those desks fit yet ? " 

20 The Poet repeatedly uses holy in the sense of upright or just. See 
The Tempest, page 135, note 11. 

21 As for your subsistence abroad, you may rely on me. 

22 To even is to equal, to make even, or to adjust ; Johnson explains it 
here, " we'll make our work even with our time, we'll do what time will 
allow." 



122 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

Will drive away distemper. To some shade, 
And fit you to your manhood : may the gods 
Direct you to the best ! 

Imo. Amen : I thank thee. [Exeunt. 



Scene V. — The Same. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace. 
Enter Cymbeline, the Queen, Cloten, Lucius, and Lords. 

Cym. Thus far ; and so, farewell. 

Luc. Thanks, royal sir. 

My Emperor hath wrote : I must from hence ; 
And am right sorry that I must report ye 
My master's enemy. 

Cym. Our subjects, sir, 

Will not endure his yoke ; and for ourself 
To show less sovereignty than they, must needs 
Appear unkinglike. 

Luc. So, sir, I desire of you 

A conduct 1 overland to Milford- Haven. 
All joy befall your Grace ! — and, madam, you ! 

Cym. My lords, you are appointed for that office ; 
The due of honour in no point omit. — 
So, farewell, noble Lucius. 

Luc. Your hand, my lord. 

Clo. Receive it friendly ; but from this time forth 
I wear it as your enemy. 

Luc. Sir, th' event 

Is yet to name the winner : fare you well. 

Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords, 

1 Conduct for conductor, guide, or escort. Often so. 



SCENE V. CYMBELINE. 123 

Till he have cross'd the Severn. — Happiness ! 

\_Exeunt Lucius and Lords. 

Queen. He goes hence frowning : but it honours us 
That we have given him cause. 

Clo. 'Tis all the better • 

Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it. 

Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor 
How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely 
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness : 
The powers that he already hath in Gallia 
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves 
His war for Britain. 

Queen. 'Tis not sleepy business ; 

But must be look'd to speedily and strongly. 

Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus 
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle Queen, 
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd 
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd 
The duty of the day. She looks us like 2 
A thing more made of malice than of duty : 
We've noted it. — Call her before us ; for 
We've been too slight in sufferance. \_Exit an Attendant. 

Queen. Royal sir, 

Since th' exile of Posthumus, most retired 
Hath her life been ; the cure whereof, my lord, 
'Tis time must do. Beseech your Majesty, 
Forbear sharp speeches to her : she's a lady 
So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes, 
And strokes death to her. 

2 "Looks us like " appears to be an equivalent for seems to us like. To 
look is often used thus by the old writers, with an ellipsis of the word which 
present usage requires after it. See Antony and Cleopatra, page 126, note 7. 



124 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

Re-enter Attendant. 

Cym. Where is she, sir? How 

Can her contempt be answer'd ? 

Atten. . Please you, sir, 

Her chambers are all lock'd ; and there's no answer 
That will be given to th' loudest noise we make. 

Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit her, 
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close ; 
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity, 
She should that duty leave unpaid to you 
Which daily she was bound to proffer : this 
She wish'd me to make known ; but our great Court 
Made me to blame in memory. 

Cym. Her doors lock'd? 

Not seen of late ? Grant, Heavens, that which I fear 
Prove false ! \_Exit. 

Queen. Son, — son, I say, follow the King. 

Clo„ That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant, 
I have not seen these two days. 

Queen. Go, look after. — 

{Exit Cloten. 
Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus ! — 
He hath a drug of mine ; I pray his absence 
Proceed by swallowing that ; for he believes 
It is a thing most precious. But, for her, 
Where is she gone ? Haply, despair hath seized her ; 
Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she's flown 
To her desired Posthumus : gone she is 
To death or to dishonour ; and my end 
Can make good use of either : she being down, 
I have the placing of the British crown. — 



SCENE V. CYMBELINE. . 125 

Re-enter Cloten. 
How now, my son ! 

Clo. 'Tis certain she is fled. 

Go in and cheer the King : he rages \ none 
Dare come about him. 

Queen. \_Aside.~\ All the better : may 
This night forestall him of the coming day ! 3 \_Exit. 

Clo. I love and hate her ; for she's fair and royal, 
And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite 
Than lady, ladies, woman : 4 from every one 
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded, 
Outsells them all ; I love her therefore : but, 
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on 
The low Posthumus, slanders so her judgment, 
That what's else rare is choked ; and in that point 
I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed, 
To be revenged upon her. For, when fools 
Shall — 

Enter Pisanio. 

Who is here ? What, are you packing, sirrah ? 
Come hither : ah, you precious pander ! Villain, 
Where is thy lady ? In a word ; or else 
Thou'rt straightway with the fiends. 

Pis. O, good my lord ! — 

Clo. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter, — 
I will not ask again. Close 5 villain, I > 
Will have this secret from thy heart, or rip 
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus ? 

3 May his grief this night preveitt him from ever seeing another day. 
* Than any lady, than all ladies, than all womankind. There is a similar 
passage in All's Well, ii. 3 : "To any count ; to all counts ; to what is man." 
5 Close, here, is sly, reticent, secretive. Often so. 



126 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

From whose so many weights of baseness cannot 
A dram of worth be drawn. 

Pis. Alas, my lord, 

How can she be with him? When was she miss'd? 
He is in Rome. 

Clo. Where is she, sir ? Come nearer ; 6 

No further halting : satisfy me home 7 
What is become of her. 

Pis. O, my all- worthy lord ! — . 

Clo. All-worthy villain ! 

Discover where thy mistress is at once, 
At the next word ; no more of worthy lord: 
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is 
Thy condemnation and thy death. 

Pis. Then, sir, 

This paper is the history of my knowledge 
Touching her flight. [Presenting a letter. 

Clo. Let's see't. I will pursue her 

Even to Augustus' throne. 

Pis. [Aside. - ] Or this, or perish. 8 

She's far enough ;• and what he learns by this 
May prove his travel, not her danger. 

Clo. Hum ! 

Pis. [Aside.] I'll write to my lord she's dead. — O Imo- 
gen, 
Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again ! 

Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true ? 

Pis. Sir, as I think. 

6 He means, " Come nearer to the point" Speak more to the purpose. 

7 " Satisfy me thoroughly" or to the utmost. Home was often used so. 

8 Meaning, probably, " I must either practise this deceit upon Cloten or 
perish by his fury." 



I 

SCENE v. CYMBELINE. 127 

Clo. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't. Sirrah, if thou 
wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service, undergo 
those employments wherein I should have cause to use thee 
with a serious industry, — that is, what villainy soe'er I bid 
thee do, to perform it directly and truly, — I would think 
thee an honest man : thou shouldst neither want my means 
for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment. 

Pis. Well, my good lord. 

Clo. Wilt thou serve me ? — for since patiently and con- 
stantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar 
Posthumus, thou canst not, in the course of gratitude, but be 
a diligent follower of mine, — wilt thou serve me ? 

Pis. Sir, I will. 

Clo. Give me thy hand ; here's my purse. Hast any of 
thy late master's garments in thy possession ? 

Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he 
wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. 

Clo. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither : 
let it be thy first service ; go. 

Pis. I shall, my lord. \_Exit. 

Clo. Meet thee at Milford-Haven ! — I forgot to ask him 
one thing ; I'll remember't anon : — even there, thou villain 
Posthumus, will I kill thee. — I would these garments were 
come. She said upon a time — the bitterness of it I now 
belch from my heart — that she held the very garment of 
Posthumus in more respect than my noble and natural per- 
son, together with the adornment of my qualities. With that 
suit upon my back, will I ravish her : first kill him, and in 
her eyes ; there shall she see my valour, which will then be 
a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech 
of insultment ended on his dead body, to the Court I'll knock 
her back, foot her home again. She hath despised me re- 
joicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge. — 



128 CYMBELINE. ACT III. 

Re-enter Pisanio, with the clothes. 

Be those the garments ? 

Pis. Ay, my noble lord. 

Clo. How long is't since she went to Milford- Haven ? 

Pis. She can scarce be there yet. 

Clo. Bring this apparel to my chamber ; that is the sec- 
ond thing that I have commanded thee : the third is, that 
thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my design. Be but duteous 
and true, preferment shall tender itself to thee. My revenge 
is now at Milford : would I had wings to follow it ! Come, 
and be true. [Exit. 

Pis. Thou bidd'st me to thy loss : for, true to thee 
Were to prove false, which I will never be, 
To him that is most true. To Milford go, 
And find not her whom thou pursuest. — Flow, flow, 
You heavenly blessings, on her ! This fool's speed 
Be cross'd with slowness ; labour be his meed ! . [Exit. 

Scene VI. — The Same. Wales : before the Cave of Bela- 

rius. 

Enter Imogen, in boy's clothes. 

Imo. I see a man's life is a tedious one : 
I've tired myself ; and for two nights together 
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick, 
But that my resolution helps me. — Milford, 
When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee, 
Thou wast within a ken : O Jove ! I think 
Foundations * fly the wretched ; such, I mean, 

1 Foundatiotis were religious houses devoted to charity and hospitality; 
institutions foimded for the relief of suffering and the entertainment of 



SCENE VI. CYMBELINE. 1 29 

Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told me 

I could not miss my way : will poor folks lie, 

That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis 

A punishment or trial ? Yes ; no wonder, 

When rich ones scarce tell true : to lapse in fulness 

Is sorer 2 than to lie for need ; and falsehood 

Is worse in kings than beggars. — My dear lord ! 

Thou'rt one o' the false ones : now I think on thee 

My hunger's gone ; but even, before, I was 

At point to sink for food. — But what is this ? 

Here is a path to't ; 'tis some savage hold : 

I were best not call ; I dare not call : yet famine, 

Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant. 

Plenty and peace breeds cowards ; hardness ever 

Of hardiness is mother. — Ho ! who's here? 

If any thing that's civil, 3 speak ; if savage, 

Take or lend. Ho ! No answer? then I'll enter. 

Best draw my sword : an if mine enemy 

But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't. 

Such a foe, good Heavens ! [ Goes into the cave. 

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. 

Bel. You, Polydore, have proved best woodman, 4 and 
Are master of the feast : Cadwal and I 

strangers. In the olden time, before the trade of tavern-keeping was known, 
the providing of such houses was esteemed a high work of Christian piety. 

2 Sorer is worse, more criminal. 

3 Civil, here, is civilized, as opposed to savage. So, in Timon of Athens, 
iv. 3, we have " civil laws are cruel " ; where " civil laws " means the laws 
of civilized life. — In the next clause the meaning seems to be, " either let 
me have food, and take pay for it, or else lend it to me, and look for a future 
return." So she says, afterwards, " I thought to have begg'd or bought what 
I have took." 

4 Woodman was a term in common use for a hunter. 



I3O CYMBELINE. » ACT III. 

Will play the cook and servant ; 'tis our match : 5 

The sweat of industry would dry and die, 

But for the end it works to. Come ; our stomachs 6 

Will make what's homely savoury : weariness 

Can snore upon the flint, when resty 7 sloth 

Finds the down-pillow hard. — Now, peace be here, 

Poor house, that keep'st thyself ! 

Gui. I'm throughly 8 weary. 

Arv. I'm weak with toil, yet strong in appetite. 

Gui. There is cold meat i' the cave ; we'll browse on that, 
Whilst 9 what we've kill'd be cook'd. 

Bel. Stay ; come not in. 

[Looking into the cave. 
But that it eats our victuals, I should think 
Here were a fairy. 

Gui. What's the matter, sir? 

Bel. By Jupiter, an angel ! or, if not, 
An earthly paragon ! Behold divineness 
No elder than a boy ! 

Re-enter Imogen. 

Into. Good masters, harm me not : 
Before I enter'd here, I call'd ; and thought 
T' have begg'd or bought what I have took : good troth, 



5 Match is the bargain or compact announced in a previous scene. 

6 Stomach was very often used for appetite ; and we all know that hunger 
is the best sauce. 

7 Resty signifies here dull, heavy, as it is explained in Bullokar's Exposi- 
tor, 1616. So Milton uses it in his Eicotioclastes, sec. 24 : " The master is 
too resty, or too rich, to say his own prayers, or to bless his own table." 

8 Throughly and thoroughly were used each for the other ; being, in fact, 
but different forms of the same word. See Henry VIII., page 154, note 13. 

9 Whilst for till. Repeatedly so. See Macbeth, page 99, note 5. 



SCENE VI. CYMBELINE. 1 3 1 

I've stolen nought ; nor would not, though I had found 
Gold strew'd i' the floor. 10 Here's money for my meat : 
I would have left it on the board so soon 
As I had made my meal, and parted so, 11 
With prayers for the provider. 

Gut. Money, youth? 

Arv. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt ! 
And 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those 
Who worship dirty gods. 

Imo. I see you're angry : 

Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should 
Have died had I not made it. 

Bel. Whither bound? 

Imo. To Milford- Haven. 

Bel. What's your name ? 

Imo. Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who 
Is bound for Italy ; he embark'd at Milford ; 
To whom being going, almost spent with hunger, 
I'm fall'n in 12 this offence. 

Bel. Pr'ythee, fair youth, 

Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds 
By this rude place we live in. Well encounter'd ! 
'Tis almost night : you shall have better cheer 
Ere you depart ; and thanks to stay and eat it. — 
Boys, bid him welcome. 

Gut. Were you a woman, youth, 

I should woo hard but be your groom : in honesty, 
I bid for you as I do buy. 13 

10 This use of in where we should use on was common. So in the Lord's 
Prayer : " Thy will be done in Earth as it is in Heaven." 

11 Parted Tor departed; a frequent usage. See King Lear, p. 70, n. 5. 

12 The indiscriminate use of in and into has been repeatedly noted. 

13 Something obscure, perhaps ; but the meaning seems to be, " I am 



132 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

Arv. I'll make't my comfort 

He is a man ; I'll love him as my brother ; — 
And such a welcome as I'd give to him 
After long absence, such is yours : most welcome ! 
Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends. 

Imo. 'Mongst friends, 

If brothers. — [Aside. ,] Would it had been so, that they 
Had been my father's sons ! then had my prize 14 
Been less ; and so more equal ballasting 
To thee, Posthumus. 

Bel. He wrings ]5 at some distress. 

Gui. Would I could free't ! 

Arv. Or I ; whate'er it be, 

What pain it cost, what danger ! Gods ! 

Bel. Hark, boys. 

[ Whispering. 

Imo. \_Aside.~\ Great men, 
That had a court no bigger than this cave, 
That did attend themselves, and had the virtue 
Which their own conscience seal'd them, — laying by 
That nothing-gift of differing 16 multitudes, — 

speaking sincerely and in good faith, and not by way of compliment or pas- 
time ; my heart is in my words ; and, as when making an honest purchase, 
I mean as I say, and will pay what I offer." This explanation is, in sub- 
stance, Mr. Joseph Crosby's. 

14 Here, again, I give Mr. Crosby's explanation : " The metaphor is from 
a prize taken at sea : ' The prize thou hast mastered in me would have been 
less, and not have sunk thee, as I have done, by overloading.' " 

15 To wring and to writhe have the same radical meaning. 

16 Several explanations have been given of different in this place, such as 
wavering and many-headed. Imogen is contrasting the nobility of conscious 
virtue with the state of those who feed on the "bubble reputation " blown up 
by multitudes differing in mind and purpose, and therefore fickle, or, as we 
say, unreliable. And so Heath explains it : " The nothing-gift which the 



SCENE VII. CYMBELINE. 1 33 

Could not out-peer these twain. — Pardon me, gods ! 
I'd change my sex to be companion with them, 
Since Leonate is false. 

Bel. It shall be so. 

Boys, we'll go dress our hunt. — Fair youth, come in : 
Discourse is heavy, fasting ; when we've supp'd, 
We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story, 
So far as thou wilt speak it. 

Gui. Pray, draw near. 

Am. The night to th' owl, the morn to th' lark, less 
welcome. 

Imo. Thanks, sir. 

Arv. I pray, draw near. [Exeunt. 

Scene VII. — Rome. A public Place. 
Enter tivo Senators and Tribunes. 

i Sen. This is the tenour of the Emperor's writ : 
That since the common men are now in action 
'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians ; 
And that the legions now in Gallia are 
Full weak to undertake our wars against 
The fall'n-off Britons ; that we do incite 
The gentry to this business. He creates 
Lucius pro-consul ; and to you the tribunes, 
For this immediate levy, he commends 17 
His absolute commission. Long live Caesar ! 

i Tri. Is Lucius general of the forces ? 

multitude are supposed to bestow is glory, reputation, which is a present of 
little value from their hands, as they are neither unanimous in giving it nor 
constant in continuing it." 

17 Commends in the sense of commits. See Winter s Tale, page 82, note 16. 



134 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

2 Sen. Ay. 

i Tri. Remaining now in Gallia? 

i Sen. With those legions 

Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy 
Must be supplyant : the words of your commission 
Will tie you to the numbers, and the time 
Of their dispatch. 

i Tri. We will discharge our duty. \Exeunt. 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. — Britain. Wales: the Forest near the Cave of 
Belarius. 

Enter Cloten. 

Clo. I am near to the place where they should meet, if 
Pisanio have mapp'd it truly. How fit his garments serve 
me ! Why should his mistress, who was made by Him that 
made the tailor, not be fit too ? the rather — saving reverence 
of the word — for 'tis said a woman's fitness comes by fits. 
Therein I must play the workman. I dare speak it to myself, 
— for it is not vain-glory for a man and his glass to confer ; 
in his own chamber, I mean, — the lines of my body are as 
well drawn as his ; no less young, more strong, not beneath 
him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, 
above him in birth, alike conversant in general services, and 
more remarkable in single oppositions : l yet this imperceiv- 

1 In single coftibat. An opposite, in Shakespeare's age, was the common 
phrase for an antagonist. See Twelfth Night, page 104, note 17. 



I 

SCENE II. CYMBELINE. 1 35 

erant 2 thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is ! 
— Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy 
shoulders, shall within this hour be off; thy mistress en- 
forced ; thy garments cut to pieces before her face : and, all 
this done, spurn her home to her father ; who may happily 
be a little angry for my so rough usage ; but my mother, 
having power of his testiness, shall turn all into my com- 
mendations. My horse is tied up safe : out, sword, and to a 
sore purpose ! Fortune, put them into my hand ! This is 
the very description of their meeting-place ; and the fellow 
dares not deceive me. \_Exit. 



Scene II. — The Same. Before the Cave of Belarius. 

Enter, from the cave, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, and 
Imogen. 

Bel. \_To Imogen.] You are not well : remain here in the 
cave ; 
We'll come to you after hunting. 

Arv. [_To Imogen.] Brother, stay here : 

Are we not brothers ? 

Into. So man and man should be ; 

But clay and clay differs in dignity, 
Whose dust is both alike. I'm very sick. 

Gut. Go you to hunting ; I'll abide with him. 

Imo. So sick I am not, — yet I am not well ; 

2 Imp erceiv erant is tindisceming or unperceiving. The word, though 
now obsolete, was often used in the Poet's time. Dyce quotes the following 
apposite passage from The Widow, a play written by Jonson, Fletcher, and 
Middleton : " Methinks the words themselves should make him do't, had 
he but the perseverance of a Cock sparrow." 



I36 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

But not so citizen a wanton 3 as 

To seem to die ere sick : so please you, leave me ; 

Stick to your journal course : the breach of custom 

Is breach of all. 4 I'm ill ; but your being by me 

Cannot amend me ; society is no comfort 

To one not sociable : I'm not very sick, 

Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me here : 

I'll rob none but myself; and let me die, 

Stealing so poorly. 

Gui. I love thee ; I have spoke it : 

As much the quantity, the weight as much, 
As I do love my father. 

Bel. What? how! how! 

Arv. If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me 
In my good brother's fault. I know not why 
I love this youth ; and I have heard you say, 
Love's reason's without reason : the bier at door, 
And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say, 
My fa the?-, not this youth. 

Bel. [Aside. ~] O noble strain ! 5 

O worthiness of nature ! breed of greatness ! 
Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base : 
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace. 
I'm not their father ; yet who this should be, 

3 " So citizen a wanton " means, apparently, so delicate or effeminate a 
resident of the city Citizen was sometimes used as an adjective, meaning 
tow7i-bred ; but I suspect this is an instance of transposition, and that wanton 
is to be taken as the adjective, — " so wanton a citizen," or "a citizen so 
wanton." The Poet has many like transpositions. 

4 Keep your daily course uninterrupted; if the stated plan of life is once 
broken, nothing follows but confusion. The Poet elsewhere has journal in 
the literal sense of daily. 

5 Strain, here, is stock, race, or lineage. See Henry V., page 78, note 7. 



I 

SCENE II. CYMBELINE. 137 

Doth miracle itself, loved before me. — 
Tis the ninth hour o' the morn. 

Arv. Brother, farewell. 

Imo. I wish ye sport. 

Arv. You health. — \To Bela.] So please you, sir. 

Imo. \_Aside.~] These are kind creatures. Gods, what 
lies I've heard ! 
Our courtiers say all's savage but at Court : 
Experience, O, thou disprovest report ! 
Th' imperious 6 seas breed monsters ; for the dish 
Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish. 
I am sick still ; heart- sick : — Pisanio, 
I'll now taste of thy drug. \_Swallows some. 

Gui. I could not stir him : 

He said he was gentle, 7 but unfortunate ; 
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest. 

Arv. Thus did he answer me : yet said, hereafter 
I might know more. 

Bel. To th' field, to th' field ! — 

We'll leave you for this time : go in and rest. 

Arv. We'll not be long away. 

Bel. Pray, be not sick, 

For you must be our housewife. 

Imo. Well or ill, 

I'm bound to you, and shall be ever. 

[Exit Imogen into the cave. 



6 Imperious for imperial, the two being used indiscriminately. Imogen 
is metaphorically comparing the big-bugs, who haunt the imperial seat, 
with the humble dwellers in the wood. 

7 Gentle here means of gentle stock or birth. "I could not stir him" 
means " I could not induce him to tell his story " ; or to give an account of 
himself. 



I38 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

Bel. This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears 8 he hath had 
Good ancestors. 

Arv. How angel-like he sings ! 

Gui. But his neat cookery ! he cut our roots 
In characters ; and sauced our broths, 
As Juno had been sick, and he her dieter. 

Arv. Nobly he yokes a smiling with a sigh, as if 
The sigh was that it was for not being such 
A smile ; the smile mocking the sigh, that it 
Would fly from so divine a temple, to commix 
With winds that sailors rail at. 

Gui. I do note 

That grief and patience, rooted in him both, 
Mingle their spurs 9 together. 

Arv. Grow, patience ! 

And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine 
His perishing root with the increasing vine ! 10 

Bel. It is great morning. 11 Come, away ! Who's 
there ? 

8 Here, again, appears is a transitive verb, meaning shows, evinces, or 
makes apparent. See page 1 19, note 14. 

9 Spurs are the longest and largest leading roots of trees. We have the 
word again in The Tempest : " The strong-based promontory have I made 
shake, and by the spurs pluck'd up the pine and cedar." 

10 We have here an expression of precisely the same sort as one now, 
against propriety, growing into use ; namely, " differing with another," 
instead of " differing f?vm another." In our time, the proper language 
would be, " Let the elder twine his root with the vine " ; or, " Let the elder 
untwine his root from the vine"; just as it is proper to say " I agree with 
you " ; or, " I differ from you." — To perish was sometimes used as a transi- 
tive verb. So, here, perishing means destructive. " The stinking elder " is 
the same as the poison elder; and I used to hear it called, and to call it, by 
either name indifferently. 

11 Great morning is, apparently, broad day ; like the French, // est grand 
matin. The same phrase occurs again in Troilus and Cressida, iv. 3. 



I 

SCENE II. CYMBELINE. 139 

Enter Cloten. 

Clo. I cannot find those runagates ; that villain 
Hath mock'd me. I am faint. 

Bel. Those runagates ! 

Means he not us ? I partly know him ; 'tis 
Cloten, the son o' the Queen. I fear some ambush. 
I saw him not these many years, and yet 
I know 'tis he. We're held as outlaws : hence ! 

Gut. He is but one : you and my brother search 
What companies 12 are near : pray you, away ; 
Let me alone with him. [Exeunt Belarius and Arviragus. 

Clo. Soft ! What are you 

That fly me thus ? some villain mountaineers ? 
I've heard of such. — What slave art thou ? 

Gut. A thing 

More slavish did I ne'er than answering 
A slave without a knock. 

Clo. Thou art a robber, 

A law-breaker, a villain : yield thee, thief. 

Gut. To who ? to thee ? What art thou ? Have not I 
An arm as big as thine ? a heart as big ? 
Thy words, I grant, are bigger ; for I wear not 
My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art, 
Why I should yield to thee ? 

Clo. Thou villain base, 

Know'st me not by my clothes ? 

Gut. No, nor thy tailor, rascal, 

Who is thy grandfather : he made those clothes, 
Which, as it seems, make thee. 13 

12 Companies for companions. Repeatedly so. See Henry V., p. 42, n. 8. 

13 This is very like " whose mother was her painting" See page 115, note 5. 



140 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

Clo. Thou precious varlet, 

My tailor made them not. 

Gui. Hence, then, and thank 

The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool ; 
I'm loth to beat thee. 

Clo. Thou injurious thief, 

Hear but my name, and tremble. 

Gui. What's thy name ? 

Clo. Cloten, thou villain. 

Gui. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, 
I cannot tremble at it : were it Toad, or Adder, Spider, 
'Twould move me sooner. 

Clo. To thy further fear, 

Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know 
I'm son to th' Queen. 

Gui. I'm sorry for't ; not seeming 

So worthy as thy birth. 

Clo. Art not afeard ? 

Gui. Those that I reverence, those I fear, the wise ; 
At fools I laugh, not fear them. 

Clo. Die the death : 

When I have slain thee with my proper hand, 
I'll follow those that even now fled hence, 
And on the gates of Lud's-town set your heads. 
Yield, rustic mountaineer. [Exeunt, fighting. 

Re-enter Belarius and Arviragus. 

Bel. No company's abroad. 

Arv. None in the world : you did mistake him, sure. 

Bel. I cannot tell : long is it since I saw him, 
But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour 
Which then he wore ; the snatches in his voice, 



SCENE II. CYMBELINE. I4I 

And burst of speaking, were as his : I'm absolute 
'Twas very Cloten. 

Arv. In this place we left them : 

I wish my brother make good time with him, 
You say he is so fell. 

Bel. Being scarce made up, 

I mean, to man, he had not apprehension 
Of roaring terrors ; for the act of judgment 
Is oft the cause of fear. 14 But, see, thy brother. 

Re-enter Guiderius with Cloten's head. 

Gui. This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse ; 
There was no money in't : not Hercules 
Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none : 
Yet, I not doing this, the fool had borne 
My head as I do his. 

Bel. What hast thou done ? 

Gui. I'm perfect 15 what : cut off one Cloten's head, 
Son to the Queen, after his own report ; 
Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer ; and swore 
With his own single hand he'd take us in, 16 
Displace our heads where — thank the gods ! — they grow, 
And set them on Lud's-town. 

Bel. We're all undone. 

14 Act, again, for action or operation. See page 67, note 2. Also, Hamlet, 
page 65, note 42. The meaning of the passage clearly is, that Cloten, be- 
fore he grew to manhood, was too thick-skulled to be sensible of the loudest, 
that is, the most evident, or most threatening, dangers. But a foolhardy 
boldness, springing from sheer dulness or paralysis of judgment, is no un- 
common thing. See Antony and Cleopatra, page 139, note 27. 

15 " I know perfectly what I have done." Belarius uses absolute just so a 
little before. See page 103, note 7. 

16 Take-in, again, for conquer or subdue. See page 104, note 2. 



142 CYMBEL1NE. ACT IV. 

Gut. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose 
But that he swore to take, our lives ? The law 
Protects not us : then why should we be tender 
To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us, 
Play judge and executioner all himself, 
For we do fear the law ? What company 
Discover you abroad ? 

Bel. No single soul 

Can we set eye on ; but in all safe reason 
He must have some attendants. Though his humour 
Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that 
From one bad thing to worse ; not frenzy, not 
Absolute madness could so far have raved, 
To bring him here alone : although, perhaps, 
It may be heard at Court, that such as we 
Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time 
May make some stronger head ; the which he hearing — 
As it is like him — might break out, and swear 
He'd fetch us in ; yet is't not probable 
To come alone, either he so undertaking, 
Or they so suffering : then on good ground we fear, 
If we do fear this body hath a tail, 
More perilous than the head. 

Arv. Let ordinance 

Come as the gods foresay it : howsoe'er, 
My brother hath done well. 

Bel. I had no mind 

To hunt this day : the boy Fidele's sickness 
Did make my way long forth. 17 

Gut. With his own sword, 

17 Made my walk forth from the cave tedious. 



I 

SCENE II. CYMBELINE. I43 

Which he did wave against my throat, I've ta'en 

His head from him : I'll throw't into the creek 

Behind our rock ; and let it to the sea, 

And tell the fishes he's the Queen's son, Cloten : 

That's all I reck. [Exit. 

Bel. I fear 'twill be revenged : 

Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't ! though valour 
Becomes thee well enough. 

Arv. Would I had done't, 

So the revenge alone pursued me ! — Polydore, 
I love thee brotherly ■ but envy much 
Thou hast robb'd me of this deed. I would revenges, 
That possible strength might meet, 18 would seek us through, 
And put us to our answer. 

Bel. Well, 'tis done : 

We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger 
Where there's no profit. I pr'ythee, to our rock ; 
You and Fidele play the cooks : I'll stay 
Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him 
To dinner presently. 

Arv. Poor sick Fidele ! 

I'll willingly to him : to gain his colour 
I'd let a parish of such Clotens blood, 19 
And praise myself for charity. [Exit. 

Bel. O thou goddess, 

Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st 
In these two princely boys ! They are as gentle 
As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, 

18 Such pursuit of vengeance as fell within the possibility of resistance. 

19 To restore the colour into his cheeks, I would let out the blood of a 
whole parish of such fellows as Cloten. A parish was a common phrase for 
a great number. 



144 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

Not wagging his sweet head ; and yet as rough, 
Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest wind, 
That by the top doth take the mountain pine, 
And make him stoop to th' vale. 'Tis wonderful 
That an invisible instinct should frame them 
To royalty unlearn'd ; honour untaught ; 
Civility not seen from other ; valour, 
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop 
As if it had been sow'd. Yet still it's strange 
What Cloten's being here to us portends, 
Or what his death will bring us. 

Re-enter Guiderius. 

Gut. Where's my brother? 

I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream, 
In embassy to his mother : his body's hostage 
For his return. [Solemn music. 

Bel. My ingenious instrument ! 

Hark, Polydore, it sounds ! But what occasion 
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion ? Hark ! 

Gut. Is he at home ? 

Bel. He went hence even now. 

Gut. What does he mean? since death of my dear'st 
mother 
It did not speak before. All solemn things 
Should answer solemn accidents. The matter? 
Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys, 20 
Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys. 
Is Cadwal mad? 

Bel. Look, here he comes, 

20 Toys is trifles, things of no regard. See Hamlet, page 178, note 5. 



I 

SCENE II. CYMBELINE. 1 45 

And brings the dire occasion in his arms 
Of what we blame him for ! 

Re-enter Arviragus, bearing Imogen, as dead, in his arms. 

Arv. The bird is dead 

That we have made so much on. I had rather 
Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty, 
T' have turn'd my leaping-time into a crutch, 
Than have seen this. 

Gui. O sweetest, fairest lily ! 

My brother wears thee not th' one half so well 
As when thou grew'st thyself. 

Bel. O melancholy ! 

Who ever yet could sound thy bottom, find 
Thy ooze? or show what coast thy sluggish crare 21 
Might easiliest harbour in ? — Thou blessed thing ! 
Jove knows what man thou mightst have made ; but ah, 
Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy ! — 
How found you him ? 

Arv. Stark, 22 as you see : 

Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber, 
Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at ; his right cheek 
Reposing on a cushion. 

Gui. Where? 



21 A crare, variously spelt craer, crayer, craye, is a small ship. So in 
Hackluyt's Voyages : " Your barke or craer made here for the river of Volga 
and the Caspian sea is very litle, of the burthen of 30 tonnes at the most." 
And in North's Plutarch : " Timoleon gave them all the aid he could ; send- 
ing them corn from Catana in the fisher boats and small crayers, which got 
into the castle many times." 

22 Stark is kindred in sense with stiff and cold. So in Romeo and Juliet, 
iv. 1 : " Each part, deprived of supple government, shall, stiff and stark and 
cold, appear like death." 



I46 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

Arv. O' the floor ; 

His arms thus leagued : I thought he slept ; and put 
My clouted brogues 23 from off my feet, whose rudeness 
Answer'd my steps too loud. 

Gut. Why, he but sleeps : 

If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed ; 
With female fairies will his tomb be haunted, 
And worms will not come to thee. 24 

Arv. With fairest flowers, 

Whilst Summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, 
I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack 
The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor 
The azure harebell, like thy veins ; no, nor 
The leaf of eglantine, who, not to slander, 
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath : the ruddock would, 
With charitable bill, — O bill, sore shaming 
Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie 
Without a monument ! — bring thee all this ; 
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none, 

23 " Clouted brogues " are coarse wooden shoes, strengthened with clout 
or tiob-nai\s. In some parts of England thin plates of iron, called clouts, are 
fixed to the shoes of rustics. 

24 Still another instance of abrupt change of person. See page 113, note 
9. — The Poet here alludes to the office of the fairies in keeping off worms, 
insects, and such-like vermin ; it being held that where they haunted no such 
noxious creatures could be found. That duty is specially assigned them in 
A Midsummer-Night's Dream, ii. 2. — Webster's Vittoria Corombona has a 
very noble strain of poetry which may have been suggested by that in the 
text : at all events, it is well worth repeating here : 

O thou soft natural death ! thou art joint twin 
To sweetest slumber : no rough-bearded comet 
Stares on thy mild departure : the dull owl 
Beats not against thy casement : the hoarse wolf 
Scents not thy carrion : pity winds thy corse, 
While horror waits on princes. 



SCENE II. CYMftELINE. I47 

To winter-guard thy corse. 25 

Gut. Pr'ythee, have done ; 

And do not play in wench-like words with that 
Which is so serious. Let us bury him, 
And not protract with admiration what 
Is now due debt. To th' grave ! 

Arv. Say, where shall' s lay him ? 

Gut. By good Euriphile, our mother. 

Arv. Be't so : 

And let us, Polydore, though now our voices 
Have got the mannish crack, sing him to th' ground, 
As once our mother ; use like note and words, 
Save that Euriphile must be Fidele. 

Gut. Cadwal, 
I cannot sing : I'll weep, and word it with thee ; 
For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse 
Than priests and fanes that lie. 

Arv. We'll speak it, then. 

Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less ; for Cloten 
Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys ; 



25 The old poets are fond of alluding to the tender reverences here as- 
cribed to the red-breast. Webster has the following lines, being part of the 
dirge sung by Cornelia for young Marcello, in the play quoted in the pre- 
ceding note : 

Call for the robin red-breast and the wren, 
Since o'er shady grove they hover, 
And with leaves and flowers do cover 
The friendless bodies of unburied men. 

Drayton, also, has it, evidently in imitation of Shakespeare : 

Covering with moss the dead's unclosed eye, 
The red-breast teacheth charity. 

But perhaps the most touching use of it is in the old ballad of The Children 
in the Wood, which is too well known to need quoting here. 



I48 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

And, though he came our enemy, remember 

He's paid for that : 26 though mean and mighty rotting 

Together have one dust, yet reverence — 

That angel of the world — doth make distinction 

Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely ; 

And though you took his life as being our foe, 

Yet bury him as a prince. 

Gui. Pray you, fetch him hither. 

Thersites' body is as good as Ajax', 
When neither are alive. 

Arv. If you'll go fetch him, 

We'll say our song the whilst. — Brother, begin. 

[Exit Belarius. 

Gui. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th' East ; 
My father hath a reason for't. 

Arv. 'Tis true. 

Gui. Come on, then, and remove him. 

Arv. So. Begin. 

Song. 

*Gui. Fear no more the heat o' the Sun, 
*A r or the furious Winter's rages ; 
*Thou thy worldly task hast done, 

*77ome art gone, and ta'en thy wages : 
*Qolden lads and girls all must, 
*As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. 

*Arv. Fear no more the frown <?' the great, 
* Thou art past the tyrants stroke ; 
* Care no more to clothe and eat ; 

26 That is, he is punished for that, or has suffered for it. 



SCENE II. CYR^ELINE. 149 

*To thee the reed is as the oak : 

* The sceptre, learning, physic, must 

* All follow this, and come to dust. 

*Gui. Fear no more the lightning-flash, 
*Arv. Nor th y all-dreaded thunder-stone / 27 
*Gui. Fear not slander, censure rash ; 
*Arv. Thou hast finished joy and moan : 
*Both. All lovers young, all lovers must, 

* Consign 98 to thee, and come to dust. 

*Gui. No exorciser 29 harm thee ! 
*Arv. Nor no witchcraft charm thee / 
*Gui. Ghost unlaid forbear thee ! 
*Arv. Nothing ill come near thee ! 
*Both. Quiet consummation 30 have ; 
*And renowned be thy grave ! 

Re-enter Belarius with the body of Cloten. 

Gui. We've done our obsequies : come, lay him down. 

Bel. Here's a few flowers ; but 'bout midnight, more : 
The herbs that have on them cold dew o' the night 
Are strewings fitt'st for graves. — Upon Earth's face 
You were as flowers : now wither'd : even so 



27 Thunder-stone was the common word for thunder-bolt, 

28 To " consign to thee " is to " seal the same contract with thee " ; that 
is, add their names to thine upon the register of death. 

29 Exorciser anciently signified a person who could raise spirits, not one 
who lays them. See Julius Ccssar, page 90, note 59. 

30 Probably the best comment on this is furnished by the closing prayer 
in the Church Burial-Service : " That we, with all those who are departed in 
the true faith of Thy holy Name, may have our perfect consummation and 
bliss, both in body and soul, in Thy eternal and everlasting glory." — The 
previous arrangement was, that "Euriphile should be Fidele," yet neither 
name occurs in the dirge. A discrepancy for which it is not easy to account. 



150 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

These herblets shall, which we upon you strow. — 
Come on, away ; apart upon our knees. 
The ground that gave them first has them again : 
Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain. 

[Exeunt Belarius, Guiderius, and ArviraGUS. 
Imo. \_Awaking.~] Yes, sir, to Milford- Haven; which is 
the way? 
I thank you. By yond bush? Pray, how far thither? 
'Ods pittikins ! 31 can it be six mile yet ? 
I've gone all night : faith, I'll lie down and sleep. 
But, soft ! no bedfellow. — O gods and goddesses ! 

[Seeing the body of Cloten. 
These flowers are like the pleasures of the world ; 
This bloody man, the care on't. I hope I dream ; 
For so I thought I was a cave-keeper, 
And cook to honest creatures : but 'tis not so ; 
'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, 
Which the brain makes of fumes : 32 our very eyes 
Are sometimes, like our judgments, blind. Good faith, 
I tremble still with fear : but if there be 
Yet left in Heaven as small a drop of pity 
As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it ! 
The dream's here still, even when I wake ; it is 

31 This diminutive adjuration is derived from God's pity, by the addition 
of kin. So we have also God's bodikin. See Hamlet, page 120, note 86. 

32 A dream-arrOw, shot at a dream-object, and all the effect of a heated 
brain. The use of bolt for a certain kind of arrow was very common. — Mr. 
Joseph Crosby furnishes me an apt comment on this passage : " Imogen, 
waking from her long trance, in the confusion of her mind cannot at once 
distinguish dreams from realities. She sees the flowers and the dead body 
by her, and most naturally utters ' I hope I dream,' yet it seems terribly real ; 
then, recollecting what she was doing before she fell into this sleep, she says, 
' For so I thought I was a cave-keeper,' that is, with the same appearance of 
reality; 'but 'tis not so,' 'tis not real ; the whole is surely a dream." 



SCENE II. CYMlELINE. 151 

Without me, as within me ; not imagined, felt. 

A headless man ! The garments of Posthumus ! 

I know the shape of s leg : this is his hand ; 

His foot Mercurial ; his Martial thigh ; 

The brawns of Hercules : but his Jovial face 33 — 

Murder in Heaven ? — How ! 'Tis gone. — Pisanio, 

All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks, 

And mine to boot, be darted on thee ! Thou, 

Conspired with that irregulous 34 devil, Cloten, 

Hast here cut off my lord. To write and read 

Be henceforth treacherous ! Damn'd Pisanio 

Hath with his forged letters, — damn'd Pisanio — 

From this most bravest vessel of the world 

Struck the main-top ! — O Posthumus ! alas, 

Where is thy head? where's that? Ah me ! where's that? 

Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart, 

And left thy head on. — How should this be? Pisanio? 

'Tis he and Cloten : malice and lucre in them 

Have laid this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant, 35 pregnant ! 

The drug he gave me, which he said was precious 

And cordial to me, have I not found it 

Murderous to th' senses ? That confirms it home ; 

This is Pisanio's deed and Cloten's : O ! — 

Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood, 

That we the horrider may seem to those 

33 " Jovial face " is a face like Jove. The epithet is frequently so used in 
the old dramatic writers. So in Heywood's Silver Age : " Alcides here will 
stand to plague you all with his high Jovial hand." * 

34 Irregulous must mean lawless, licentious, out of rule. The word has 
not hitherto been met with elsewhere; but in Reinold's GooVs Revenge 

' against Adultery, we have " irregulated lust." 

35 Pregnant, as explained by Nares, is " full of force or conviction, or full 
of proof in itself" ; that is, plain, evident. 



152 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

Which chance to find us. O, my lord, my lord ! 

\Throws herself on the body. 

E?iter Lucius, a Captain and other Officers, and a Soothsayer. 

Cap. To them the legions garrison'd in Gallia, 
After your will, have cross'd the sea ; attending 36 
You here at Milford-Haven with your ships, 
They are in readiness. 

Luc. But what from Rome ? 

Cap. The Senate hath stirr'd up the confiners 37 
And gentlemen of Italy ; most willing spirits, 
That promise noble service : and they come 
Under the conduct of bold Iachimo, 
Sienna's brother. 

Luc. When expect you them ? 

Cap. With the next benefit o' the wind. 

Luc. This forwardness 

Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers 
Be muster'd ; bid the captains look to't. — Now, sir, 
What have you dream'd of late of this war's purpose ? 

Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a vision, — 
I fast and pray'd for their intelligence, 38 — thus : 
I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd 
From th' spongy South 39 to this part of the West, 

36 Here, as often, attend is wait for or await See Othello, p. 126, note 32. 

37 Confiners arfe borderers ; those dwelling on or near the confines. 

38 It was no common dream, but sent from the very gods, or the gods 
themselves. Fast for fasted, as we have in another place of this play lift for 
lifted. In King fohn we have heat for heated, waft for wafted. 

39 To us Americans it is not very clear why spongy should be thus used 
as an epithet of south. I suppose it is because, in England, winds from the 
South are apt to be charged with moisture, and to bring fogs or rains, as if 
they had sponged up a good deal of water. So, in The Tempest, iv. 1, we 
have " spongy April." " Foggy south," and " dew-dropping south " also occur. 



SCENE II. CtMBELINE. 1 53 

There vanish'd in the sunbeams ; which portends — 
Unless my sins abuse my divination — 
Success to th' Roman host. 

Luc. Dream often so, 

And never false ! — Soft, ho ! what trunk is here 
Without his top ? The ruin speaks that sometime 
It was a worthy building. How ! a page ! 
Or dead, or sleeping on him ? But dead, rather ; 
For nature doth abhor to make his bed 
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead. 
Let's see the boy's face. 

Cap. He's alive, my lord. 

Luc. He'll, then, instruct us of this body. — Young one, 
Inform us of thy fortunes ; for it seems 
They crave to be demanded. Who is this 
Thou makest thy bloody pillow? Or who was he 
That, otherwise than noble Nature did, 
Hath alter'd that good picture? 40 What's thy interest 
In this sad wreck ? How came it ? Who is it ? 
What art thou ? 

Lmo. I am nothing ; or, if not, 

Nothing to be were better. This was my master, 
A very valiant Briton and a good, 
That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas ! 
There is no more such masters : I may wander 
From East to Occident, cry out for service, 
Try many, and all good, serve truly, never 
Find such another master. 

Luc. 'Lack, good youth ! 

Thou movest no less with thy complaining than 

40 Who has altered this picture, so as to make it other than Nature 
did it ? 



154 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

Thy master in bleeding : say his name, good friend. 

I??w. Richard du Champ. — \_Aside.~] If I do lie, and do 
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope 
They'll pardon it. — Say you, sir? 

Luc. Thy name ? 

Imo. Fidele, sir. 

Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very same : 
Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name. 
Wilt take thy chance with me ? I will not say 
Thou shalt be so well master' d ; but, be sure, 
No less beloved. The Roman Emperor's letters, 
Sent by a Consul to me, should not sooner 
Than thine own worth prefer thee : 41 go with me. 

Lmo. I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods, 
I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep 
As these poor pickaxes 42 can dig : and, when 
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I've strew'd his grave, 
And on it said a century 43 of prayers, 
Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh ; 
And, leaving so his service, follow you, 
So please you entertain me. 

Luc. Ay, good youth ; 

And rather father thee than master thee. — My friends, 
The boy hath taught us manly duties : let us 
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can, 
And make him with our pikes and partisans 
A grave : come, arm him. 44 — Boy, he is preferr'd 



41 Prefer was formerly used precisely as we use recommend. 

42 "These poor pickaxes" are her hands. 

43 A century is, properly, a hundred ; here used for an indefinite number. 

44 That is, " take him up in your arms." So in The Two Noble Kinsmen : 
Arm your prize ; I know you. will not lose her." The prize is Emilia. 



SCENE III. 



CYiBELlNE. 155 



By thee to us ; and he shall be interr'd 

As soldiers can. Be cheerful ; wipe thine eyes : 

Some falls are means the happier to arise. \_Exeunt. 

Scene III. — The Same. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace. 
Enter Cymbeline, Lords, Pisanio, and Attendants. 

Cym. Again ; and bring me word how 'tis with her. — 
A fever with the absence of her son ; \_Exit an Attendant. 
Madness, of which her life's in danger. — Heavens, 
How deeply you at once do touch me ! Imogen, 
The great part of my comfort, gone ; my Queen 
Upon a desperate bed, and in a time 
When fearful wars point at me ; her son gone, 
So needful for this present : it strikes me, past 
The hope of comfort. — But for thee, thee, fellow, 
Who needs must know of her departure, and 
Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee 
By a sharp torture. 

Pis. Sir, my life is yours, 

I humbly set it at your will : but, for my mistress, 
I nothing know where she remains, why gone, 
Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your Highness, 
Hold me your loyal servant. 

1 Lord. Good my liege, 

The day that she was missing he was here ; 
I dare be bound he's true, and shall- 1 perform 
All parts of his subjection loyally. For Cloten, 
There wants no diligence in seeking him, 
And he'll, no doubt, be found. 

I Shall for will, as we have before had will for shall. 



I56 CYMBELINE. • ACT IV. 

Cym. The time is troublesome. — - 

\To Pisanio.] We'll slip you for a season ; but our jealousy 
Does yet depend. 2 

1 Lord. So please your Majesty, 

The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn, 
Are landed on your coast ; with a supply 
Of Roman gentlemen, by the Senate sent. 

Cym. Now for the counsel of my son and Queen 1 
I am amazed with matter. 3 

1 Lord. Good my liege, 

Your preparation can affront 4 no less 

Than what you hear of: come more, for more you're ready : 
The want is, but to put those powers in motion 
That long to move. 

Cym. I thank you. Let's withdraw ; 

And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not 
What can from Italy annoy us ; but 
We grieve at chances here. Away ! 

[Exeunt all but Pisanio. 

Pis. I've had no letter from my master since 
I wrote him Imogen was slain : 'tis strange : 
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise 
To yield me often tidings ; neither know I 
What is betid to Cloten ; but remain 
Perplex'd in all. The Heavens still must work. 
Wherein I'm false I'm honest ; not true, to be true : 



2 Meaning, " My suspicion is still undetermined." In the same manner, 
we now say, " the cause is depending." 

3 Amazed in its literal sense of perplexed or bewildered ; in a maze. Often 
so. — Matter is, here, variety of business. 

4 To affront, as the word is here used, is to meet t encounter, ox face. See 
Hamlet, page 126, note 5. 



SCENE IV. C50MBELINE. I 5/ 

These present wars shall find I love my country, 

Even to the note o' the King, 5 or I'll fall in them. 

All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd : 

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd. \_Exit. 



Scene IV. — The Same. Wales : before the Cave of Belarius. 
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. 

Gut. The noise is round about us. 

Bel. Let us from it. 

Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock 1 it 
From action and adventure ? 

Gui. Nay, what hope 

Have we in hiding us ? This way, 2 the Romans 
Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us 
For barbarous and unnatural revolts 3 
During their use, and slay us after. 

Bel. Sons, 

We'll higher to the mountains ; there secure us. 
To the King's party there's no going : newness 
Of Cloten's death — we being not known, not muster'd 
Among the bands — may drive us to a render 4 
Where we have lived ; and so extort from's that 
Which we have done, whose answer would be death 

5 Meaning, " So that even the King shall take notice of my valour." 

1 To lock, for in locking, or by locking. See page 69, note 6. 

2 We acting, or if we act, in this way. 

3 Revolts for revolters, that is, rebels. So in King John, v. 2 : " And 
you degenerate, you ingrate revolts." The Poet has many like forms of 
language. — " During their use" may mean, "as long as they have any use 
for us"; or, perhaps, during their present armed occupancy. 

4 A render, as the word is here used, is an account, or confession. 



158 CYMBELINE. ACT IV. 

Drawn on with torture. 

Gut. This is, sir, a doubt 5 

In such a time nothing becoming you, 
Nor satisfying us. 

Arv. It is not likely 

That when they hear the Roman horses neigh, 
Behold their quarter'd fires, 6 have both their eyes 
And ears so cloy'd importantly as now, 
That they will waste their time upon our note, 7 
To know from whence we are. 

Bel. O, I am known 

Of many in the army : many years, 
Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him 
From my remembrance. And, besides, the King 
Hath not deserved my^service nor your loves ; 
Who find in my exile the want of breeding, 
The certainty of this hard life ; 8 aye hopeless 
To have the courtesy your cradle promised, 
But to be still hot Summer's tanlings, and 
The shrinking slaves of Winter. 

Gui. Than be so, 

Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to th' army : 
I and my brother are not known ; yourself 
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown, 9 
Cannot be question'd. 

5 Doubt for fear ; as we have before had the verb. See page 74, note 14. 

6 The fires in the several quarters of the Roman army; their watch-fires. 

7 In taking notice of us. Note the same as in the preceding scene. 

8 The certain conseque?ice of this hard life. 

9 Overgrown with hair and beard. Posthumus afterwards alludes to 
Belarius as one who " deserved so long a breeding as his white beard came 
to." — Thereto is in addition thereto. So in The Winter's Tale, i. 2: "As 
you are certainly a gentleman ; thereto clerk-like, experienced." 



SCENE IV. CY1V#3ELINE. 1 59 

Arv. By this Sun that shines, 

I'll thither : what thing is it that I never 
Did see man die ! 10 scarce ever look'd on blood, 
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison ! 
Never bestrid a horse, save one that had 
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel 
Nor iron on his heel ! I am ashamed 
To look upon the holy Sun, to have 
The benefit of his blest beams, remaining 
So long a poor unknown. 

Gut. By Heavens, I'll go : 

If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave, 
I'll take the better care ; but, if you will not, 
The hazard therefore due fall on me by 
The hands of Romans ! 

Arv. So say I, — Amen. 

Bel. No reason I, since of your lives you set 
So slight a valuation, should reserve 
My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys ! 
If in your country wars you chance to die, 
That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie : 
Lead, lead. — \_Aside^\ The time seems long ; their blood 

thinks scorn, 11 
Till it fly out, and show them princes born. \_Exeunt. 

10 Shakespeare has many exclamative phrases and sentences without the 
article, where modern usage requires it. So, here, we should say, " what a 
thing it is," &c. See Julius Cczsar, page 65, note 14. 

To think scorn is old language, meaning simply to scorn. 



l6o CYMBELINE. 



ACT V. 

Scene I. — Britain. The Roman Camp. 

Enter Posthumus with a bloody handkerchief. 

Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee ; for I wish'd 
Thou shouldst be colour'd thus. — You married ones, 
If each of you should take this course, how many 
Must murder wives much better than themselves 
For wrying x but a little ! — O Pisanio ! 
Every good servant does not all commands : 
No bond 2 but to do just ones. — Gods ! if you 
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never 
Had lived to put on 3 this : so had you saved 
The noble Imogen to repent ; and struck 
Me, wretch more worth your vengeance. But, alack, 
You snatch some hence for little faults ; that's love, 
To have them fall no more : you some permit 
To second ills with ills, each elder worse, 4 
And make them dreaded to the doers' thrift. 5 



1 This word was quite common in the Poet's time. So in Sidney's Ar- 
cadia : " That from the right line of virtue are wryedXo these crooked shifts." 

2 Bond, or ba?id, was used in the general sense of obligation. 

3 To put on is to incite, instigate.. See Othello, page 108, note 30. 

4 Here elder has the exact sense of later, elder deed being put for the 
deed of an elder man. So the Poet has " elder days " repeatedly for the 
days of an elder man, that is, later days. See Richard II., page 90, note 3. 

5 Them refers to ills, the evil deeds in question. And so the speaker's 
thought seems to be, that some bold knaves are permitted to go on from 
bad to worse, the crimes causing the doer of them to be feared, and so 
working for his security and profit. In other words, boldness in wrong 



SCENE II. 



cAlBELINE. l6l 



But Imogen is your own : do your best wills, 

And make me bless'd t' obey ! — I am brought hither 

Among th' Italian gentry, and to fight 

Against my lady's kingdom : 'tis enough 

That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress ; peace ! 

I'll give no wound to thee. — Therefore, good Heavens, 

Hear patiently my purpose : I'll disrobe me 

Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself 

As does a Briton peasant : so I'll fight 

Against the part I come with ; so I'll die 

For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life 

Is, every breath, a death : and thus, unknown, 

Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril 

Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know 

More valour in me than my habits show. 

Gods, put the strength o' the Leonati in me ! 

To shame the guise o' the world, I will begin 

The fashion, — less without and more within. \_Exit. 

Scene II. — The Same. A Field between the British and 
Roman Camps. 

Enter, from one side, Lucius, Iachimo, Imogen, and the 
Roman Army ; from the other side, the British Army ; 
Leonatus Posthumus following, like a poor soldier. They 
march over and go out. Alarums, Then enter again, in 
skirmish, Iachimo and Posthumus : he vanquisheth and 
disarmeth Iachimo, and then leaves him. 

Iach. The heaviness and guilt within my bosom 

sometimes brings impunity by scaring earthly Justice from her propriety. 
The text is thus an apt variation upon the well-known passage in Hamlet : 
" And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself buys out the law." 



1 62 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

Takes off my manhood : I've belied a lady, 

The Princess of this country, and the air on't 

Revengingly enfeebles me ; or could this carl, 1 

A very drudge of Nature's, have subdued me 

In my profession ? Knighthoods and honours, borne 

As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn. 

If that thy gentry, Britain, go before 

This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds 2 

Is, that we scarce are men, and you are gods. \_Exit. 

The battle continues ; the Britonsyfy / Cymbeline is taken : then 
enter, to his rescue, Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. 

Bel. Stand, stand ! We have th' advantage of the ground ; 
The lane is guarded : nothing routs us but 
The villainy of our fears. 

Gin. 



Stand, stand, and fight 
Arv. ) 

Re-enter Posthumus, and seconds the Britons : they rescue 
Cymbeline, and all exeunt. Then re-enter Lucius, Iach- 
imo, and Imogen. 

Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself; 
For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such 
As war were hoodwink'd. 

Iach. 'Tis their fresh supplies. 

Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely : or betimes 
Let's re-enforce, or fly. \_Exeunt. 

1 Carl or churl is a clown or countryman, and is used by our old writers 
in opposition to a gentleman. 

2 Odds, here, has about the force of chance or likelihood ; as, in weigh- 
ing, the odds turns the scales. See The Winter's Tale, page 156, note 14. 



]\!beline. 163 



SCENE III. CYMBELINE. 

Scene III. — The Same. Another Part of the Field. 
Enter Posthumus and a British Lord. 

Lord. Camest thou from where they made the stand ? 

Post. I did : 

Though you, it seems, came from the fliers. 

Lord. I did. 

Post. No blame be to you, sir ; for all was lost, 
But that the Heavens fought : the King himself 
Of his wings destitute, the army broken, 
And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying 
Through a strait lane ; the enemy full-hearted, 
Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work 
More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down 
Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling 
Merely through fear ; that 1 the strait pass was damm'd 
With dead men hurt behind, and cowards living 
To die with lengthen'd shame. 

Lord. Where Was this lane ? 

Post. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd with turf; 
Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier, 
An honest one, I warrant ; who deserved 
So long a breeding as his white beard came to, 
In doing this for's country. Athwart the lane, 
He, with two striplings, — lads more like to run 
The country base 2 than to commit such slaughter ; 

1 Here, as often, that is equivalent to so that, or insomuch that. 

2 Base was the common name of a rustic game, in which the swiftest 
runner was the winner. So bid the base was to run fast, and dare another 
to pursue; something like what, in my boyhood, was called playing tag. — 
Here the Poet took an incident of Scottish history, as given in Holinshed : 
" There was, near the place of the battle, a long lane, fenced on both sides 



164 CYMBELINE. ACT 

With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer 

Than those for preservation cased or shame, — 

Made good the passage ; cried to those that fled, 

Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men : 

To darkness fleet, souls that fly backwards / Standi 

Or we are Romans, and will give you that 

Like beasts which you shun beastly, and ?nay ' scape, 

But to look back 2 in frown : stand, stand I These three, 

Three thousand confident, in act as many, — 

For three performers are the file when all 

The rest do nothing, — with this word, Stand, stand / 

Accommodated by the place, more charming 4 

With their own nobleness, — which could have turn'd 

A distaff to a lance, — gilded pale looks : 5 

Part shame, part spirit renew'd ; that some, turn'd coward 

But by example, — O, a sin in war, 

Damn'd in the first beginners ! — 'gan to look 

The way that they did, and to grin like lions 

Upon the pikes o' the hunters. Then began 

A stop i' the chaser, a retire ; anon 

A rout, confusion-thick : forthwith they fly 

Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles ; slaves, 



with ditches and walls made of turf, through the which the Scots that fled 
were beaten down by the enemies on heaps. Here Hay, with his sons, sup- 
posing they might best stay the flight, placed themselves overthwart the 
lane, beat them back whom they met fleeing, and spared neither friend 
nor foe, but down they went all such as came within their reach ; where- 
with divers hardy personages cried unto their fellows to return back unto 
the battle." 

3 " But to look back " for " but by looking back." See page 157, note 1. 

4 Acting like magic upon others, charming others into bravery by their 
own act. To charm was used for to enchant. See page 59, note 4. 

5 Brought back the blood into cheeks that were blanched through fear. 



SCENE III. CYMBELINE. 1 65 

The strides they victors made : 6 and now our cowards, 
Like fragments in hard voyages, 7 became 
The life o' the need : having found the back-door open 
Of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they wound ! 
Some slain before ; some dying ; some their friends 
O'er-borne i' the former wave : ten, chased by one, 
Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty : 
Those that would die or e'er resist are grown 
The mortal bugs 8 o' the field. 

"Lord. This was strange chance, 

A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys ! 

Post. Nay, do not wonder at it : you are made 
Rather to wonder at the things you hear 
Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't, 
And vent it for a mockery ? Here is one : 
Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane, 
Preserved the Britons, was the Romans' bane. 

Lord. Nay, be not angry, sir. 

Post. 'Lack, to what end? 

Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend ; 
For, if he'll do as he is made to do, 
I know he'll quickly fly my friendship too. 
You've put me into rhyme. 

Lord. Farewell ; you're angry. 

Post. Still going? 9 — [Exit Lord. 

This is a lord ! O noble misery ! 

6 They fly like slaves, crest-fallen, unmanned, over the same ground where 
they had advanced proudly, striding onwards as victors. 

7 Like fragments of food saved up at sea, and at last, from the length of 
the voyage, found necessary to keep the crew from starving. 

8 Mortal, again, in the sense of deadly or fatal. See page 61, note 8. — 
Bugs is bugbears, terrors. See The Winter's Tale, page 89, note 9. 

9 Meaning, '* you run away from me, as you did from the enemy." 



1 66 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

To be i' the field, and ask, what news, of me ! 
To-day how many would have given their honours 
T' have saved their carcasses ! took heel to do't, 
And yet died too ! I, in mine own woe charm'd, 10 
Could not find death where I did hear him groan, 
Nor feel him where he struck : being an ugly monster, 
'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, 
Sweet words ; or hath more ministers than we 
That draw his knives i' the war. Well, I will find him : 
For being now a favourer to the Briton, 11 
No more a Briton, I've resumed again 
The part I came in : fight I will no more, 
But yield me to the veriest hind that shall 
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is 
Here made by th' Roman ; great the answer be 
Britons must take : for me, my ransom's death ; 
On either side I come to spend my breath ; 
Which neither here I'll keep nor bear again, 
But end it by some means for Imogen. 

Enter two British Captains and Soldiers. 

i Cap. Great Jupiter be praised ! Lucius is taken : 
'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels. 

10 Charms were supposed to render men invulnerable in battle. So in 
Chapman's Homer, Iliad, Book iv. : " Turne head, ye well-rode peeres of 
Troy, feed not the Grecians pride ; they are not charm'd against your points 
of Steele." And Macbeth, when he comes to the last mortal encounter with 
Macduff, says to him, referring to the weird incantations, " Let fall thy blade 
on vulnerable crests ; I bear a charmed life." 

11 The meaning probably is, " whereas I was but now a favourer to the 
Briton, I am such no longer ; I have resumed the part of a Roman soldier, 
and that will assure me of a speedy death." Here, as often, for is instead 
of probably. 



SCENE IV. CY]#BELINE. I67 

2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, 12 

That gave th' affront with them. 

1 Cap. So 'tis reported : 

But none of 'em can be found. — Stand ! who is there ? 
Post. A Roman ; 

Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds 

Had answer'd him. 
*2 Cap. Lay hands on him : a dog, 

A lag of Rome shall not return to tell 

What crows have peck'd them here. He brags his service 

As if he were of note : bring him to th' King. 

Enter Cymbeline, attended; Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, 
Pisanio, Soldiers, and Roman Captives. The Captains pre- 
sent Posthumus to Cymbeline, who delivers him over to a 
Jailer : after which, all go out. 

Scene IV. — The Same. A Prison. 
Enter Posthumus and two Jailers. 

1 Jail. You shall not now be stol'n, you've locks upon you ; 
So graze as you find pasture. 1 

2 Jail. Ay, or stomach. 

\_Exeunt Jailers. 
Post. Most welcome, bondage ! for thou art a way, 
I think, to liberty. Yet am I better 
Than one that's sick o' the gout ; since he had rather 
Groan so in perpetuity than be cured 
By th' sure physician, death ; who is the key 
T' unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fetter'd 

12 That is, a simple or rustic dress ; the proper meaning of silly. 
1 The Jailer refers to the custom of putting a lock on a horse's leg when 
he is turned out to pasture ; especially if the horse is wild or hard to catch. 



l68 CYMBELINE. ACT 

More than my shanks and wrists : you good gods, give me 

The penitent instrument 2 to pick that bolt, 

Then free for ever ! Is't enough I'm sorry? 

So children temporal fathers do appease ; 

Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent? 

I cannot do it better than in gyves, 

Desired more than constrain'd : 3 to satisfy, — 

If of my freedom 'tis the main part, — take 

No stricter render of me than my all. 4 

I know you are more clement than vile men, 

Who of their broken debtors take a third, 



2 " The penitent instrument " is the instrument of penitence ; that which 
gives freedom from the bondage of a guilty conscience. 

3 In gyves, ox fetters, that are more desired by me than forced or strained 
upon me. The peculiar use of constrain'd makes the passage somewhat 
obscure. — In what follows, though the sense is perfect, the density of 
thought is such as to render the expression almost enigmatical. Posthu- 
mus is regarding his soul as fettered by crime, and repentance as the means 
of setting it free. And so strong, so deep, so binding is his sense of guilt, 
that he longs to make all the atonement possible, and to procure absolution 
at the cost of life itself. His supreme desire is to die; he cannot bear the 
thought of any lighter sacrifice. His life for Imogen's seems to him but a 
poor retribution at the best; nor would he have the gods take up with less; 
and so his prayer is, that, if this will but discharge the main part of his debt, 
if this will answer or satisfy the chief condition of his acquittal, they will take 
it, and set his conscience free. 

4 Mr. Joseph Crosby understands stricter here as meaning more restricted 
or smaller ; and to this sense he aptly quotes from Hooker's Ecclesiastical 
Polity : " As they took the compass of their commission stricter or larger, 
so their dealings were more or less moderate." This use of the word, 
though it may appear rather strange to us, was not very uncommon ; and 
so Richardson, among his definitions of strict, has " confined, contracted, 
narrowed." Wordsworth, also, in his great poem On the Power of Sound, 
calls the ear a " strict passage, through which sighs are brought." Here 
strict evidently means narrow or strait. So that the sense of the text is, 
" Take no less surrender of me than my all." The logic of the speech comes 
out more harmonious and clear, by taking stricter thus. 



SCENE IV. 



CYJtBELINE. 169 



A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again 

On their abatement : that's not my desire : 

For Imogen's dear life take mine ; and though 

'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life ; you coin'd it. 

'Tvveen man and man they weigh not every stamp ; 

Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake : 5 

You rather mine, being yours : and so, great powers, 

If you will make this audit, take my life, 

And cancel these cold bonds. 6 — O Imogen ! 

I'll speak to thee in silence. [Sleeps. 

* 'Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition, Sicilius Leon- 
*atus, Father to Posthumus, an old man, attired like a 
* warrior ; leading in his hand an ancient Matron, his 
*wife, and Mother to Posthumus, with music before them :■ 
*then, after other music, follow the two young Leonati, 
* Brothers to Posthumus, with wounds as they died in the 
*wars. They circle Posthumus round, as he lies sleeping. 

*Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show 
*Thy spite on mortal flies : 
*With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, 
*That thy adulteries 
*Rates and revenges. 

5 " Men do not take every stamp or piece by weight ; some pieces, though 
too light, they accept, because of the figure stamped upon them, and in or- 
der to make up the number required : still more, then, great powers, accept 
my life, since it is your gift, and has the notes of your mintage." 

6 We have a like expression in Macbeth, iii. 2 : "Cancel and tear to pieces 
that great bond which keeps me paled." By " these cold bonds," however, 
Posthumus probably means his life, or the conditions of it. Dr. Ingleby 
observes that "the old writers compared the hindrances of the body to 
gyves " ; and he quotes from The Optlck Glasse of Humors, 1607 : " Our bodies 
were the prisons and bridewils of our soules, wherein they lay manicled and 
fettered in Gives." 



I/O CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

*Hath my poor boy done aught but well, 

* Whose face I never saw? 
*Whose father then, as men report 

*Thou orphans' father art, 
*Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him 

*From this earth-vexing smart. 
*Great Nature, like his ancestry, 

* Moulded the stuff so fair, 

*That he deserved the praise o' the world, 
*As great Sicilius' heir. 

*i Bro. When once he was mature for man, 

*In Britain where was he 
*That could stand up his parallel ; 

*Or fruitful object be 
*In eye of Imogen, that best 

*Could deem his dignity? 

*Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd, 
*To be exiled, and thrown 
*From Leonati' seat, and cast 
*From her his dearest one, 
*Sweet Imogen? 

*Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo, 

* Slight thing of Italy, 

*To" taint his nobler heart and brain 

*With needless jealousy? 
*And to become the geek 7 and scorn 

*0' the other's villainy? 

*2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we come, 
*Our parents, and us twain, 

7 Geek is an old word for fool, or one made a jest and mockery. 



SCENE IV. CYMBELINE. I/I 

*That, striking in our country's cause, 

*Fell bravely, and were slain ; 
*Our fealty and Tenantius' right 

*With honour to maintain. 

*/ Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath 

*To Cymbeline perform' d : 
*Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods, 

*Why hast thou thus adjourn'd 
*The graces for his merits due ; 

*Being all to dolours turn'd ? 

*Sici. Thy crystal window ope ; look out ; 
*No longer exercise 
*Upon a valiant race thy harsh 
*And potent injuries. 

*Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good, 
*Take off his miseries. 

*Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion ; help ; 
*Or we poor ghosts will cry 
*To th' shining synod of the rest 
*Against thy deity. 

*Both Bro. Help, Jupiter ; or we appeal, 
*And from thy justice fly. 

*Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an 
* eagle: he throws a thunderbolt. The Ghosts fall on 
*their knees. 

*Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low, 

*Oifend our hearing ; hush ! How dare you ghosts 
*Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know, 
*Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts ? 



172 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

*Poor shadows of Elysium, hence ! and rest 
*Upon your never-withering banks of flowers : 
*Be not with mortal accidents opprest ; 
*No care of yours it is ; you know 'tis ours. 
*Whom best I love I cross ; to make my gift, 
*The more delay'd, delighted. 8 Be content ; 
*Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift : 
*His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. 
*Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in 
*Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade ! 
*He shall be lord of Lady Imogen, 
*And happier much by his affliction made. 
*This tablet lay upon his breast ; wherein 
*Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine : 
*And so, away ! no further with your din 
*Express impatience, lest you stir up mine. — 
*Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. [Ascends. 

*Sici. He came in thunder ; his celestial breath 
*Was sulphurous to smell : the holy eagle 
*Stoop'd, as to foot us : 9 his ascension is 
*More sweet than our bless'd fields : his royal bird 
* Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys 10 his beak, 
*As when his god is pleased. 

*All. Thanks, Jupiter ! 

*Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd 

8 The more delightful, or the more delighted in, the longer it is delayed. 
An instance, such as I have often noted, of the indiscriminate use of active 
and passive forms. 

9 To grasp us in his pounces. The word is thus used by Herbert : "And 
till they foot and clutch their prey." 

10 In ancient language the cleys or dees of a bird or beast are the same 
with claws in modern speech. To claw their beaks is an accustomed action 
with hawks and eagles. 



SCENE IV. CYMBELINE. 173 

*His radiant roof. Away ! and, to be blest, 
*Let us with care perform his great behest. 

\The Ghosts vanish. 
*Post. [ Waking.'] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and 
begot 
*A father to me ; and thou hast created 
*A mother and two brothers : but — O scorn ! — 
*Gone ! they went hence so soon as they were born : 
*And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend 
*On greatness' favour dream as I have done ; 
*Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve : 
*Many dream not to find, neither deserve, 
*And yet are steep'd in favours ; so am I, 
*That have this golden chance, and know not why. 

* What fairies haunt this ground ? A book? O rare one ! 
*Be not, as is our fangled world, 11 a garment 

*Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects 
*So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers, 
*As good as promise. 

* [Reads.] WJienas a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, 

* without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender 
*air ; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, 

* which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed 
*to the old stock, and freshly grow ; then shall Posthu7?ius 

* end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace 
^and plenty. 

*Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen 
*Tongue, and brain not ; 12 either both, or nothing ; 

H Fangled is trifling. Hence new-fangled, still in use for new toys or 
trifles. 

12 To "tongue, and brain not " is to speak, and not comprehend. 



174 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

*0r senseless speaking, or a speaking such 
*As sense cannot untie. Be what it is, 
*The action of my life is like it, which 
*I'll keep, if but for sympathy. 

Re-enter First Jailer. 

i Jail. Come, sir, are you ready for death? 

Post. Over-roasted rather ; ready long ago. 

i Jail. Hanging is the word, sir : if you be ready for 
that, you are well cooked. 

Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the 
dish pays the shot. 

i Jail. A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort 
is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more 
tavern-bills ; which are often the sadness of parting, as the 
procuring of mirth : you come in faint for want of meat, de- 
part reeling with too much drink ; sorry that you have paid 
too much, and sorry that you are paid 13 too much ; purse 
and brain both empty, — the brain the heavier for being too 
light, the purse too light being drawn of heaviness : of this 
contradiction you shall now be quit. O, the charity of a 
penny cord ! it sums up thousands in a trice : you have no 
true debitor and creditor but it ; of what's past, is, and to 
come, the discharge : your neck, sir, is pen, book, and count- 
ers ; 14 so the acquittance follows. 

Post. I am merrier to die than thou art to live. 

i Jail. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache : 
but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to 
help him to bed, I think he would change places with his 

13 Paid here means subdued or overcome by the liquor. 

14 Cottnters were pieces of false coin used in casting accounts. 



SCENE IV. CYMlELINE. 175 

officer ; for, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall 

go- 

Post. Yes, indeed do I, fellow. 

1 Jail. Your death has eyes in's head, then; I have not 
seen him so pictured : you must either be directed by some 
that take upon them to know, or take upon yourself that 
which I am sure you do not know ; or jump 15 the after- 
inquiry on your own peril : and how you shall speed in your 
journey's end, I think you'll never return to tell one. 

Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct 
them the way I am going, but such as wink and will not use 
them. 

1 Jail. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should 
have the best use of eyes to see the way of blindness ! I 
am sure hanging's the way of winking. 

Enter a Messenger. 

Mess. Knock off his manacles ; bring your prisoner to 
the King. 

Post. Thou bring'st good news ; I am call'd to be made 
free. 

1 Jail. I'll be hang'd, then. 

Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a jailer ; no bolts for 
the dead. [Exeunt Posthumus and Messenger. 

1 Jail. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget 
young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. 16 Yet, on my 
conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he 

15 To jump is to risk or hazard. See Macbeth, page 73, note 4. 

16 Prone here signifies ready, prompt. So in Lucan's Pharsalia, trans- 
lated by Sir Arthur Georges : " Thessalian fierie steeds, for use of war so 
prone and fit." And in Wilfride Holme's poem, entitled The Fall and Evil 
Success of Rebellion, 1537 : " With bombard and basilisk, with men prone 
and vigorous." 



I76 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

be a Roman : and there be some of them too that die 
against their wills ; so should I, if I were one. I would we 
were all of one mind, and one mind good ; O, there were 
desolation of jailers and gallowses ! I speak against my 
present profit ; but my wish hath a preferment in't. \_Exeunt. 



Scene V. — The Same. Cymbeline's Tent 

Enter Cymbeline, Belarkjs, Guiderius, Arviragus, Pisanio, 
Lords, Officers, and Attendants. 

Cy?n. Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made 
Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart 
That the poor soldier, that so richly fought, 
Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast 
Stepp'd before targs of proof, 1 cannot be found : 
He shall be happy that can find him, if 
Our grace can make him so. 

Bel. I never saw 

Such noble fury in so poor a thing ; 
Such precious deeds in one that promised nought 
But beggary and poor looks. 

Cym. No tidings of him? 

Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and living, 
But no trace of him. 

Cym. To my grief, I am 

The heir of his reward ; which I will add 
To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain, 

\To Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. 



1 Targs of proof is targets, or shields, that are proof against warlike 
weapons. The Poet has many like phrases. 



SCENE V. CYMBELINE. 1 77 

By whom I grant she lives. Tis now the time 
To ask of whence you are : report it. 

Bel. Sir, 

In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen : 
Further to boast were neither true nor modest, 
Unless I add we're honest. 

Cym. Bow your knees. 

Arise my knights o' the battle : I create you 
Companions to our person, and will fit you 
With dignities becoming your estates. 2 — 

Enter Cornelius and Ladies. 

There's business in these faces. — Why so sadly 
Greet you our victory ? you look like Romans, 
And not o' the Court of Britain. 

Cor. Hail, great King ! 

To sour your happiness, I must report 
The Queen is dead. 

Cym. Whom worse than a physician 

Would this report become ? But I consider 
By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death 
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she ? 

Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life ; 
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded 
Most cruel to herself. What she confess 'd 
I will report, so please you : these her women 
Can trip me, if I err ; who with wet cheeks 
Were present when she finish'd. 

Cym. Pr'ythee, say. 

Cor. First, she confess'd she never loved you ; only 

2 Estates for rank. In such cases, old usage prefers the plural. 



I J& CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

Affected greatness got by you, not you : 
Married your royalty, was wife to your place ; 
Abhorr'd your person. 

Cym. She alone knew this ; 

And, but she spoke it dying, I would not 
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed. 

Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand 3 to love 
With such integrity, she did confess 
Was as a scorpion to her sight ; whose life, 
But that her flight prevented it, she had 
Ta'en off by poison. 

Cym. O most delicate fiend ! 

Who is't can read a woman? — Is there more? 

Cor. More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had 
For you a mortal mineral ; which, being took, 
Should by the minute feed on life, and, lingering, 
By inches waste you : in which time she purposed, 
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to 
O'ercome you with her show ; and so in time, 
When she had fit 4 you with her craft, to work 
Her son into th' adoption of the crown : 
But, failing of her end by his strange absence, 
Grew shameless-desperate ; open'd, in despite 
Of Heaven and men, her purposes ; repented 
The evils she hatch'd were not effected ; so, 
Despairing, died. 

Cym. Heard you all this, her women ? 

i Lady. We did, so please your Highness. 

Cym. Mine eyes 

3 To bear in hand is an old phrase meaning to pretefid, to pro/ess. Shake- 
speare has it repeatedly. See Macbeth, page ioi, note 15. 

4 Fit, again, for fitted ; shortened to suit the metre. See page 120, note 20. 



scene v. CYM^ELINE. 1 79 

Were not in fault, for she was beautiful ; 

Mine ears, that heard her flattery ; nor my heart, 

That thought her like her seeming ; it had been vicious 

To have mistrusted her : yet, O my daughter ! 

That it was folly in me, thou mayst say, 

And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all ! — 

Enter Lucius, Iachimo, the Soothsayer, and other Roman 
Prisoners, guarded ; Posthumus behind, and Imogen. 

Thou comest not, Caius, now for tribute ; that 
The Britons have razed out, though with the loss 
Of many a bold one ; whose kinsmen have made suit 
That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter 
Of you their captives, which ourself have granted : 
So, think of your estate. 

Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war : the day 
Was yours by accident ; had it gone with us, 
We should not, when the blood was cool, have threaten'd 
Our prisoners with the sword. But, since the gods 
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives 
May be call'd ransom, let it come : sufficeth 
A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer ; 
Augustus lives to think on't ; and so much 
For my peculiar care. This one thing only 
I will entreat : My boy, a Briton born, 
Let him be ransom'd : never master had 
A page so kind, so duteous-diligent, 
So tender over his occasions, true, 
So feat, 5 so nurse-like : let his virtue join 

5 Feat is apt, dexterous, ?ieat. " Tender over his occasions " probably 
means delicate and quick to anticipate his master's wants, and prompt in 
doing whatever occasion might require. 



1 80 CYMBELINE. ACT v. 

With my request, which I'll make bold your Highness 
Cannot deny. He hath done no Briton harm, 
Though he have served a Roman : save him, sir, 
And spare no blood besides. 

Cym. I've surely seen him; 

His favour is familiar to me. 6 — 
Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, 
And art mine own. I know not why nor wherefore 
To say Live, boy : ne'er thank thy master ; live ; 
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt, 
Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it ; 
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner, 
The noblest ta'en. 

lino. I humbly thank your Highness* 

Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad ; 
And yet I know thou wilt. 

Imo. No, no ; alack, 

There's other work in hand : I see a thing 
Bitter to me as death ; your life, good master, 
Must shuffle for itself. 

Luc. The boy disdains me, 

He leaves me, scorns me ; briefly die their joys 
That place them on the truth of girls and boys. 
Why stands he so perplex' d? 

Cym. What wouldst thou, boy? 

I love thee more and more ; think more and more 
What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on ? speak, 



6 Favour is countenance or look. Often so used. — Here we have a note- 
worthy instance of what may be termed unconscious recollection without 
recognition. Certain most subtile and delicate threads of association awaken 
the father's feelings at once. The same thing occurs in at least two other 
cases. See The Winter's Tale, page 157, note 16. 



SCENE V. 



CYMBELINE. l8l 



Wilt have him live ? Is he thy kin ? thy friend ? 

Into. He is a Roman ; no more kin to me 
Than I to your Highness ; who, being born your vassal, 
Am something nearer. 

Cym. Wherefore eyest him so? 

Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please 
To give me hearing. 

Cym. Ay, with all my heart, 

And lend my best attention. What's thy name ? 

Imo. Fidele, sir. 

Cym. Thou'rt my good youth, my page ; 

I'll be thy master : walk with me ; speak freely. 

[Cymbeline and Imogen converse apart. 

Bel. Is not this boy revived from death ? 

Arv. One sand another 

Not more resembles : that sweet rosy lad 
Who died, and was Fidele. — What think you? 

Gui. The same dead thing alive. 

Bel. Peace, peace ! see further ; he eyes us not ; forbear ; 
Creatures may be alike : were't he, I'm sure 
He would have spoke to us. 

Gui. But we saw him dead. 

Bel. Be silent ; let's see further. 

Pis. [_Aside.~] 'Tis my mistress : 

Since she is living, let the time run on 
To good or bad. [Cymbeline and Imogen come forward. 

Cym. Come, stand thou by our side ; 

Make thy demand aloud. — \To Iach.] Sir, step you forth ; 
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely ; 
Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it, 
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall 
Winnow the truth from falsehood. — On, speak to him. 



1 82 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render 7 
Of whom he had this ring. 

Post. \_Aside.~] What's that to him? 

Cym. That diamond upon your ringer, say 
How came it yours ? 

lack. 'Twould torture me to leave unspoken that 
Which, to be spoke, would torture thee. 8 

Cym. How ! me ? 

lack. I'm glad to be constrain'd to utter that 
Torments me to conceal. By villainy 
I got this ring : 'twas Leonatus' jewel, 
Whom thou didst banish; and — which' more may grieve 

thee, 
As it doth me — a nobler sir ne'er lived 
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear -more, my lord? 

Cym. All that belongs to this. 

lack. That paragon, thy daughter, — 

For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits 
Quail to remember, — Give me leave ; I faint. 

Cym. My daughter ! what of her? Renew thy strength : 
I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will 
Than die ere I hear more : strive, man, and speak. 

lack. Upon a time, — unhappy was the clock 
That struck the hour ! — it was in Rome, — accursed 
The mansion where ! — 'twas at a feast, — O, would 
Our viands had been poison'd, or at least 

7 To render, in the same sense as the substantive before ; to give an ac- 
count, or to acknowledge. See page 157, note 4. The Poet has render 
repeatedly in the kindred sense of report "or represetit. 

8 Here, again, we have the infinitive used gerundively, as to be spoke is 
equivalent to in being spoke, or by being spoke. The plain English of the 
passage is, " It would torture me to leave unspoken that which it would tor- 
ture you to hear." See page 69, note 6. 



scene v. cyrHbeline. 183 

Those which I heaved to head ! — the good Posthumus, — 

What should I say? he was too good to be 

Where ill men were, and was the best of all 

Amongst the rarest of good ones, — sitting sadly, 

Hearing us praise our loves of Italy, 

For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast 

Of him that best could speak ; for feature, laming 

The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva, 

Postures beyond brief nature ; 9 for condition, 

A shop of all the qualities that man 

Loves woman for ; besides that hook of wiving, 10 

Fairness which strikes the eye, — 

Cym. I stand on fire : 

Come to the matter. 

lack. All too soon I shall, 

Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus, 
Most like a noble lord in love, and one 
That had a royal lover, took his hint ; 
And, not dispraising whom we praised, — therein 
He was as calm as virtue, — he began 
His mistress' picture ; which by his tongue being made, 
And then a mind put in't, either our brags 
Were crack'd of kitchen-trulls, 11 or his description 

9 Feature is here used with reference to the whole person, and in the 
sense of proportion. — Shrine is statue. — Pight is an old form of pitched or 
fixed. Straight-pight probably means fixed or standing erect. Postures has 
reference to the statues of Venus and Minerva : whose postures or attitudes 
outgo the brief or variable attitudes of nature. The Poet here shows a 
knowledge of the inmost essence of Art ; that its office is to surpass nature 
by idealizing Nature's forms, concentrating the life and spirit of many chang- 
ing forms into one permanent form. 

10 "That hook of wiving " is, I take it, the hook that catches that silly fish, 
a husband. — Condition is temper or disposition ; as usual. 

11 To crack is, in one of its old senses, to brag, boast, or, as we now say, 



184 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

Proved us unspeaking sots. 12 

Cym. Nay, nay, to th' purpose. 

lack. Your daughter's chastity, there it begins. 
He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams, 
And she alone were cold ; whereat I, wretch, 
Made scruple of his praise ; and wager'd with him 
Pieces of gold 'gainst this which then he wore 
Upon his honour'd finger. He, true knight, 
No lesser of her honour confident 
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring ; 
And would so, had it been a carbuncle 
Of Phoebus' wheel ; and might so safely, had it 
Been all the worth of 's car. Away to Britain 
Post I in this design : well may you, sir, 
Remember me at Court ; where I was taught 
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference 
'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd 
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain 
'Gan in your duller Britain operate 
Most vilely ; for my vantage, excellent : 
And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd 
That I return'd with simular proof enough 
To make the noble Leonatus mad, 
By wounding his belief in her renown 
With tokens thus and thus ; averring notes 
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet, — 

to crack up. So that here the meaning is, " our brags were bragged," that 
is, made, &c. So we have cracker for boaster in King "John, ii. 1 : " What 
cracker is this same that deafs our ears with this abundance of superfluous 
breath? " 

12 In old English, sot often means fool, — the French sense of the word. 
Shakespeare repeatedly has it so. See Twelfth Night, page 47, note 12. 



MBELINE. 185 



SCENE V. CYMBELINE. 

O cunning, how I got it ! — nay, some marks 
Of secret on her person. Whereupon — 
Methinks, I see him now — 

Post. [Coming forward^ Ay, so thou dost, 
Italian fiend ! — Ah me, most credulous fool, 
Egregious murderer, thief, any thing 
That's due to all the villains past, in being, 
To come ! O, give me cord, or knife, or poison, 
Some upright justicer ! 13 — Thou, King, send out 
For torturers ingenious : it is I 
That all th' abhorred things o' the Earth amend 
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus, 
That kill'd thy daughter : villain-like, I lie ; 
That caused a lesser villain than myself, 
A sacrilegious thief, to do't. The temple 
Of virtue was she ; yea, and she herself. 14 
Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set 
The dogs o' the street to bay me ! every villain 
Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus ; and 
Be villainy less than 'twas ! 15 — O Imogen ! 
My queen, my life, my wife ! O Imogen, 
Imogen, Imogen ! 

Imo. Peace, my lord ; hear, hear — 



13 This good old word occurs several times in Shakespeare. And so in 
Bishop Hall's Contemplation, on " Christ's Procession to the Temple " : 
" With what fear and astonishment did the repining offenders look upon so 
unexpected a Justicer, while their conscience lashed them more than those 
cords, and the terror of that meek Chastiser more affrighted them than His 
blows." See King Lear, page 146, note 3. 

14 Not only the temple of virtue, but virtue herself. 

15 That is, " let villainy be henceforth considered less villainous than it 
was." A variation upon what he has just said, " that all the abhorred things 
o' the Earth amend by being worse than they." 



1 86 CYMBELINE. 



ACT V. 



Post. Shall's have a play of this ? Thou scornful page, 
There lie thy part. [Striking her : she falls. 

Pis. O, gentlemen, help, help ! 

Mine and your mistress ! — O, my lord Posthumus ! 
You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now. -^ Help, help ! — 
Mine honour'd lady ! 

Cym. Does the world go round? 

Post. How come these staggers on me ? 

Pis. Wake, my mistress ! 

Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me 
To death with mortal joy. 

Pis. How fares my mistress ? 

Inio. O, get thee from my sight ; 
Thou gavest me poison : dangerous fellow, hence ! 
Breathe not where princes are. 

Cym. The tune 16 of Imogen ! 

Pis. Lady, 
The gods throw stones of sulphur on me, if 
That box I gave you was not thought by me 
A precious thing ; I had it from the Queen. 

Cym. New matter still? 

Imo. It poison'd me. 

Cor. O gods ! — 

I left out one thing which the Queen confess 'd, 
Which must approve thee honest : If Pisanio 
Have, said she, given his mistress that confection 
Which 1 gave him for cordial, she is served 
As I would serve a rat. 

Cym. What's this, Cornelius? 

16 The King now recognizes his daughter's voice. Tune is but another 
form of tone. The power of unconscious association is rarely exemplified 
in Cymbeline's instant taking to the supposed stranger. 



rAeline. 187 



SCENE V. CYMBELINE. 

Cor. The Queen, sir, very oft imp6rtuned me 
To temper poisons for her ; still pretending 
The satisfaction of her knowledge only 
In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs, 
Of no esteem : I, dreading that her purpose 
Was of more danger, did compound for her 
A certain stuff, which, being ta'en, would cease 
The present power of life ; 17 but in short time 
All offices of nature should again 
Do their due functions. — Have you ta'en of it ? 

Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead. 18 

Bel. My boys, 

There was our error. 

Gut. This is, sure, Fidele. 

Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady from you ? 
Think that you are upon a rock ; and now 
Throw me again. 19 [Embracing him. 

17 Cease was not unfrequently used thus as a transitive verb. 

18 The word dead was often used, to denote a state of suspended animation. 
So the original stage-direction on page 145 reads " Enter Arviragus, with 
Imogen dead, bearing her in his arms" And in The Faerie Quee?ze, iv. 7, 9 : 

For she (deare Ladie) all the way was dead, 
Whilest he in armes her bore; but, when she felt 
Herselfe downe soust, she waked out of dread 
Streight into griefe, that her deare hart nigh swelt, 
And eft gan into tender teares to melt. 

19 White calls this " a passage of impenetrable obscurity." There may 
indeed be some doubt as to what Imogen means by rock, whether the edge 
of a precipice, or something else. But she has a rare vein of humour in 
her composition, which crops out now and then ; though, apparently, with- 
out her being at all conscious of it ; as when she calls her hands " these 
poor pickaxes." Here her humour seems to take on a form of loving and 
trustful irony; for, after what has just passed in her hearing, she knows 
right well that her husband would die a hundred times rather than lift his 
finger to hurt her. So I think Heath's explanation is very satisfactory: 



1 88 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

Post. Hang there like fruit, my soul, 

Till the tree die ! 

Cym. How now, my flesh, my child ! 

What, makest thou me a dullard in this act ? 
Wilt thou not speak to me? 

Imo. Your blessing, sir. [Kneeling. 

\ Bel. \_To Guide, and Arvi.] Though you did love this 

youth, I blame ye not ; 
You had a motive for't. 

Cym. My tears that fall 

Prove holy water on thee ! Imogen, ' 
Thy mother's dead. 

Imo. I'm sorry for't, my lord. 

Cym. O, she was naught ; and 'long of 20 her it was 
That we meet here so strangely : but her son 
Is gone, we know not how nor where. 

Pis. My lord, 

Now fear is from me, I'll speak troth. Lord Cloten, 
Upon my lady's missing, came to me 
With his sword drawn ; foam'd at the mouth, and swore, 
If I discover 'd not which way she was gone, 
It was my instant death. By accident, 
I had a feigned letter of my master's 
Then in my pocket ; which directed him 
To seek her on the mountains near to Milford ; 
Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments, 
Which he enforced from me, away he posts 
With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate 

" Consider that you have just escaped being wrecked in the full persuasion 
of my infidelity and death, and are at last got safe on a rock ; now throw 
me from you again, if your heart will give you leave." 
20 Along of is an old phrase equivalent to because of. 



SCENE V. 



cyivIbeline. 189 



My lady's honour : what became of him 
I further know not. 

Gui. Let me end the story : 

I slew him there. 

Cym. Marry, the gods forfend ! 

I would not thy good deeds should from my lips 
Pluck a hard sentence : pr'ythee, valiant youth, 
Deny't again. 

Gui. I've spoke it, and I did it. 

Cym. He was a prince. 

Gut. A most incivil one : the wrongs he did me 
Were nothing prince-like ; for he did provoke me 
With language that would make me spurn the sea, 
If it could so roar to me : I cut off's head ; 
And am right glad he is not standing here 
To tell this tale of mine. 

Cym. I'm sorry for thee : 

By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must 
Endure our law : thou'rt dead. 

Imo. That headless man 

I thought had been my lord. 

Cym. Bind the offender, 

And take him from our presence. 

Bel. Stay, sir King : 

This man is better than the man he slew ; 
As well descended as thyself; and hath 
More of thee merited than a band of Clotens 
Had ever scorse for. 21 — \_To the Guard.] Let his arms alone ; 

21 Scorse is an old word used repeatedly, both as noun and verb, by 
Spenser, Drayton, Jonson, and others, in the general sense of bargain, ex- 
change, offset, equivalent, payment. So that the meaning here is, "this man 
is worth more to thee than a whole regiment of such men as Cloten ever 
had an equivalent for." 



I9O CYMBELINE. ACT v. 

They were not born for bondage. 

Cym. Why, old soldier, 

Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for, 
By tasting of our wrath? 22 How of descent 
As good as we ? 

Arv. In that he spake too far. 

Cym. And thou shalt die for't. 

Bel. We will die all three, 

But I will prove 23 that two on's are as good 
As I have given out him. — My sons, I must, 
For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech, 
Though, haply, well for you. 

Arv. Your danger's ours. 

Gui. And our good his. 

Bel. Have at it, then ! — 

By leave : Thou hadst, great King, a subject who 
Was call'd Belarius. 

Cy?n. What of him ? he is 

A banish'd traitor. 

Bel. He it is that hath 

Assumed this age : 24 indeed, a banish'd man; 
I know not how a traitor. 

Cym. Take him hence : 

The whole world shall not save him. 

22 There is some obscurity here owing to the effect being put for the 
cause. The full sense is, " by doing that which thou knowest must draw 
our wrath upon thee " ; or, " in consequence of which thou art sure to taste 
our wrath." 

23 But is here exceptive, from be out, and is equivalent to unless, except, 
or if not. So that the meaning is, " We will all three die, if \ do not, or if 
I shall not." See Othello, page 116, note 8. 

24 Referring to the different appearance which he now makes in compari- 
son with that when Cymbeline last saw him. 



scene v. cyinIbeline. 191 

Bel Not too hot ! 

First pay me for the nursing of thy sons ; 
And let it be confiscate all, so soon 
As I've received it. 

Cym. Nursing of my sons ! 

Bel. I am too blunt and saucy ; here's my knee : 
Ere I arise, I will prefer 25 my sons ; 
Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir, 
These two young gentlemen, that call me father, 
And think they are my sons, are none of mine ; 
They are the issue of your loins, my liege, 
And blood of your begetting. 

Cym. How ! my issue ! 

Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan, 
Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd : 
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment 
Itself, and all my treason ; 26 that I suffer' d 
Was all the harm I did. These gentle Princes — 
For such and so they are — these twenty years 
Have I train'd up : those arts they have as 27 I 
Could put into them ; my breeding was, sir, as 
Your Highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile, 
Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children 
Upon my banishment : I moved her to't ; 
Having received the punishment before, 
For that which I did then : beaten for loyalty 
Excited me to treason : their dear loss, 



25 To prefer here means to advance, to promote. 

26 The meaning is, " my crime, my punishment, and all the treason I was 
charged with, existed only in what you were pleased to think." 

27 I have before noted that the relatives as and that or which were often 
used indiscriminately. See jfulius Ccesar, page 46, note 7. 



192 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shaped 
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir, 
Here are your sons again ; and I niust lose 
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world. 
The benediction of these covering heavens 
Fall on their heads like dew ! for they are worthy 
To inlay heaven with stars. 

Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st. 

The service that you three have done is more 
Unlike than this thou tell'st. 28 I lost my children : 
If these be they, I know not how to wish 
A pair of worthier sons. 

Bel. Be pleased awhile. 

This gentleman, whom I call Polydore, 
Most worthy Prince, as yours, is true Guiderius ; 
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus, 
Your younger princely son : he, sir, was lapp'd 
In a most curious mantle, wrought by th' hand 
Of his Queen-mother, which, for more probation, 
I can with ease produce. 

Cym. Guiderius had 

Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star ; 
It was a mark of wonder. 

Bel. This is he ; 

Who hath upon him still that natural stamp : 
It was wise Nature's end in the donation, 
To be his evidence now. 

Cym. O, what ! am I 

28 " Thy tears give testimony to the sincerity of thy relation ; and I have 
the less reason to be incredulous, because the actions which you have done 
within my knowledge are more incredible than the story which you relate." 
The King reasons very justly. — JOHNSON. 



I 

SCENE V. CYMBELINE. 1 93 

A mother to the birth of three ? Ne'er mother 
Rejoiced deliverance more. — Blest may you be, 
That, after this strange starting from your orbs, 
You may reign in them now ! 29 — O Imogen, 
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom. 

Into. No, my lord ; 

I've got two worlds by't. — O my gentle brothers, 
Have we thus met ? O, never say hereafter 
But I am truest speaker : you call'd me brother, 
When I was but your sister ; I you brothers, 
When ye were so indeed. 

Cym. Did you e'er meet? 

Arv. Ay, my good lord. 

Gut. And at first meeting loved ; 

Continued so, until we thought he died. 

Cor. By the Queen's dram she swallow'd. 

Cym. O rare instinct ! 

When shall I hear all through ? This fierce 30 abridgment 
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which 
Distinction should be rich in. — Where, how, lived you? 
And when came you to serve our Roman captive ? 
How parted with your brothers ? how first met them ? 
Why fled you from the Court, and whither ? These, 
And your three motives 31 to the battle, with 
I know not how much more, should be demanded ; 
And all the other by-dependencies, 
From chance to chance : but nor the time nor place 

29 Orb and orbit were used synonymously. 

30 Fierce was often used in the general sense of rapid, vehement, excessive, 
violent. See Hamlet, page 52, note 36. 

31 "Your three motives" means "the motives of you three." So, in 
Romeo and Juliet, " both our remedies " means " the remedy for us both." 



194 CYMBELINE. ACT V. 

Will serve our long inter'gatories. 32 See, 

Posthumus anchors upon Imogen ; 

And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye 

On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting 

Each object with a joy : the counterchange 

Is severally in all. — Let's quit this ground, 

And smoke the temple with our sacrifices. — 

\To Bela.] Thou art my brother ; so we'll hold thee ever. 

Imo. You are my father too ; and did relieve me, 
To see this gracious season. 

Cym. All o'erjoy'd, 

Save these in bonds : let them be joyful too, 
For they shall taste our comfort. 

Imo. My good master, 

I will yet do you service. 

Luc. Happy be you ! 

Cym. The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought, 
He would have well becomed this place, and graced 
The thankings of a king. 

Post. I am, sir King, 

The soldier that did company these three 
In poor beseeming ; 'twas a fitment for 
The purpose I then follow'd. — That I was he, 
Speak, Iachimo : I had you down, and might 
Have made you finish. 

lack. \_Knecling.~] I am down again : 
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, 
As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you, 
Which I so often owe : but your ring first ; 



32 Such was the form often used ; of course, for interrogatories. It occurs 
twice in The Merchant of Venice, near the close. 



SCENE v. CYMBELINE. 1 95 

And here the bracelet of the truest Princess 
That ever swore her faith. 

Post. Kneel not to me : 

The power that I have on you is to spare you ; 
The malice towards you to forgive you : live, 
And deal with others better. 

Cym. Nobly doom'd ! 

We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law; 
Pardon's the word to all. 

Arv. You holp us, sir, 

As you did mean indeed to be our brother ; 
Joy'd are we that you are. 

Post. Your servant, Princes. — Good my lord of Rome, 
Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought 
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd, 
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows 33 
Of mine own kindred : when I waked, I found 
This label on my bosom ; whose containing 34 
Is so from sense in hardness, that I can 
Make no collection 35 of it : let him show 
His skill in the construction. 

Luc. Philarmonus, — 

Sooth. Here, my good lord. 

Luc. Read, and declare the meaning. 

*Sooth. [Reads.] Whenas a noil's whelp shall, to him- 

33 Spritely shows are groups of sprites, ghostly appearances. 

34 " Whose containing" means, evidently, "the contents of which." — "So 
from sense in hardness" means, apparently, so difficult to be understood, or 
so hard to make sense of. 

35 A collection is a corollary, a consequence deduced from premises. So 
in Hamlet : " Her speech is nothing, yet the unshaped use of it doth move 

. the hearers to collection." 



I96 CYMBEL1NE. ACT V. 

*self unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a 
* piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be 
*lopp'd branches, which, being dead many years, shall after 

* revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow ; then 
* shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and 
* flourish in peace and plenty?^ 

*Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp ; 

*The fit and apt construction of thy name, 

*Being Leo-natus, doth import so much. — 

*\_To Cymbe.] The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter, 

*Which we call mollis aer, and mollis aer 

*We term it mulier ; — \_To Posthu.] which mulier I divine 

*Is thy most constant wife ; who, even now, 

* Answering the letter of the oracle, 
*Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about 
*With this most tender air. 

* Cym. This hath some seeming. 

Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, 
Personates thee : and thy lopp'd branches point 
Thy two sons forth ; who, by Belarius stol'n, 
For many years thought dead, are now revived, 
To the majestic cedar join'd ; whose issue 
Promises Britain peace and plenty. 

Cym. Well, 

By peace we will begin ; — and, Caius Lucius, 
Although the victor, we submit to Caesar, 
And to the Roman Empire; promising 

36 Coleridg% remarks upon this strange " label " as follows : " It is not 
easy to conjecture why Shakespeare should have introduced this ludicrous 
scroll, which answers no one purpose, either propulsive or explicatory, un- 
less as a joke on etymology." See Critical Notes on the preceding scene. 



:^m 



BELINE. I97 



To pay our wonted tribute, from the which 
We were dissuaded by our wicked Queen ; 
Whom Heavens, 37 in justice, both on her and hers, 
Have laid most heavy hand. 

Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune 
The harmony of this peace. The vision 
Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke 
Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant 
Is full accomplish'd ; for the Roman eagle, 
From South to West on wing soaring aloft, 
Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the Sun 
So vanish'd ; which foreshow'd our princely eagle, 
Th' imperial Caesar, should again unite 
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline, 
Which shines here in the West. 

Cym. Laud we the gods ; 

And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils 
From our bless'd altars. Publish we this peace 
To all our subjects. Set we forward ; let 
A Roman and a British ensign wave 
Friendly together : so through Lud's-town march ; 
And in the temple of great Jupiter 
Our peace we'll ratify ; seal it with feasts. — 
Set on there ! — Never was a war did cease, 
Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace. 

[Exeunt. 

37 The construction is somewhat irregular, and the language probably 
elliptical ; " Upon whom." The Poet has many such ellipses. 



CRITICAL NOTES. 



Act i., Scene i. 

Page 47. You do not meet a man but frowns : our bloods 

Not more obey the heavens than our courtiers 

Still seem as does the King. — In the v second of these lines, the 
original has No instead of Not, and in the third Kings instead of 
King. No does not give the right sense. Coleridge proposed to sub- 
stitute comttenances for courtiers, and Keightley conjectures " courtiers' 
faces " / either of which would accord with King's. But with the two 
slight changes here made we get substantially the same sense. The 
second correction is Tyrwhitt's. 

P. 48. But not a courtier, 

Although they wear their faces to the bent 

Of the King's looks, but hath a heart that is 

Glad at the thing they scotvl at. — So Theobald. Instead of 
" but hath a heart that is," the original reads " hath a heart that is not." . 
The sense is about the same either way ; but I can hardly think the 
Poet would have endured such a halt in the metre. Pope's second edi- 
tion reads as in the text. 

P. 49. I cannot delve him to the root : his father 
Was calVd Sicilius, who did gain his honour 
Against the Romans with C as sib elan ; &c. — The original has 
joyne instead of gain, which is White's correction. Jervis conjectured 
win, which gives the same sense as gain, but involves more of literal 
change. I do not well see how to get any fitting sense out of join. 

P. 52. You gentle gods, give me but this I have, 

And cere up my embracements from a next, Sec. — The original 
has " And seare up " ; but this seems to have been only another way 
of spelling cere. Singer reads " And seal up." See foot-note 9. 



200 CYMBELINE. 

P. 53. Remain, remain thou here 

While sense can keep it on. — As both thou and it refer to the 
ring, Pope substituted thee for it, and has been followed by various edi- 
tors. Perhaps rightly; for the change of person is very harsh. See, 
however, foot-note 10. 

P. 53. O disloyal thing, 

That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st 
A year's age on me ! — To complete the second of these lines, 
Hanmer reads "thou heapest many'''' ; Capell, "thouheap'st instead." 
Perhaps it should be " thou heap'st more than A year's age on me." 

P. 56. About some half hour hence, 

V pray you, speak with me. — The original omits /. 



Act i., Scene 2. 

P. 57. 2 Lord. F II attend your lordship. — The original assigns this 
speech to the first Lord. Corrected by Capell. 



Act i., Scene 3. 

P. 58. No, madam ; for so 

As he could make me with this eye or ear 

Distinguish him from others, &c. — So Theobald. The origi- 
nal reads " with his eye," &c. Coleridge proposed " with the eye " ; 
which I am apt to think the better correction. 

P. 58. I wotild have broke mine eye-strings, crack? d the balls, 

To look upon him; &c. — Here the original has an awkward 
and uncharacteristic anti-climax, — " crack'd them but to look upon 
him." Staunton proposed to read " I would have crack 'd mine eye- 
strings, broke their balls, To look upon him." But I think the climax 
is duly made without transposing broke and crack'd ; while in the pro- 
posed reading their would of course refer to eye-strings, and thus un- 
tune the language, if not the sense. 



CRITICAL NOTES. 201 



Act i., Scene 4. 

P. 61. For taking a beggar without his quality. — The old text has 
" without lesse quality " ; which expresses no meaning at all suited to 
the place. Rowe changed less to more, and has been followed by some 
editors. For my part, I could not print less, and did not like to print 
more. The reading in the text was proposed by Knight. It seems to 
me just the thing. See foot-note 5. 

P. 62. But, tipon my mended judgment, — if I offend not to say it 
is mended, &c. — The original lacks not. A veiy obvious error. Cor- 
rected by Rowe. 

P. 63. I could hut believe she excelled many. — So Heath. The origi- 
nal has not instead of but. The misprint occurs repeatedly, and not is 
palpably wrong here. Malone reads " could not but believe," and is 
followed by Dyce and the Cambridge Editors. But that reading seems 
to me to convey a wrong sense : it means, I could not help believing; 
whereas the meaning seems rather to be, "I could only believe " ; I 
could believe only that she excelled many, not that she excelled all. 

P. 63. The one may be sold or given, if there were wealth enough for 
the purchase or merit for the gift. — The original reads " or given, or 
if there were wealth enough for the purchases" &c. Corrected by 
Rowe. Doubtless an accidental repetition of or. 

P. 64. You are afraid, and therein the wiser. — So Warburton. The 
original has " You are a Friend." The correction is approved by the 
next sentence : " But I see you have some religion in you, that you 
fear" See foot-note 20. 

Act i., Scene 5. 

P. 66. / do wonder, doctor, 

Thou ask 'st me such a question. — So Theobald and Walker. 
The original omits do. 



202 CYMBELINE. 

P. 67. I will try the forces 

Of these thy compounds on such creatures as 
We count not worth the hanging, — but none human, — 
To test the vigour of them, &c. — So Walker. Instead of test, 
the original repeats try ; which is very awkward, to say the least. 

P. 67. Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him 
Will I first work : he's factor for his master, 
And enemy to my son. — So Walker. The original is without 
factor, which is used in a later scene for agent. And some such in- 
sertion is plainly needful here both for sense and for metre. Where 
two consecutive words begin with the same or similar letters, one of 
them is very apt to be overlooked in transcribing or in printing. 

P. 69. Think what a chance thou chancest on. — So Rowe, and 
Collier's second folio. The original has " thou changest on." Theo- 
bald reads " what a change thou chancest on." 



Act i., Scene 6. 

P. 70. Had I been thief stoPn, 

As my two brothers, happy ! Blest be those, 
How mean soever, that have their honest wills ; 
Which seasons comfort : but most miserable 

Is the desire that's gloriotis. — In the last of these lines, the 
original has desires. An obvious error ; corrected in the second folio. 
I here adopt an important transportation proposed by Staunton. The 
old text defeats both metre and logical order by misplacement, thus : 

Had I been thief-stol'n, 
As my two brothers, happy! but most miserable 
Is the desire that's glorious : blest be those, 
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills; 
Which seasons comfort. 



P. 71. Reflect upon him accordingly, as yoti value your trust. — 
LEONATUS. — So the original, except that it lacks the dash after trust. 
Hanmer, and various others following him, read " your truest Leona- 



CRITICAL NOTES. 203 

TUS." The change is, I think, something worse than needless ; as the 
letter is properly supposed to begin by introducing the bearer, and 
then to have the signature at the end. See foot-note 3. 

P. 71. What, are men mad? Hath Nature given them eyes 

To see this vaulted arch and the rich scope 

Of sea and land, zvhich can distinguish Hwixt 

The fiery orbs above, and the twimi'd stones 

Upon th' unnumber'd beach? — In the second of these lines, the 
original has Crop instead of Scope. I cannot imagine what crop should 
have to do there. Warburton and Collier's second folio substitute 
cope ; but this makes an ugly tautology with vaulted arch: besides, it 
requires Of to be changed to O'er* — In the fifth line, also, the original 
reads " Upon the number y d beach." The reading in the text is Theo- 
bald's ; and Collier's second folio has the same. See fopt-note 4. 

P. 72. Sluttery, to such neat excellence opposed, 

Should make desire vomit from e??iptiness. — The original has 
"vomit emptinesse "; which Johnson explains " feel the convulsions of 
eructation without plenitude." The explanation, I think, only makes 
the absurdity of the old reading more glaring. Both sense and metre 
plead for the insertion of from. Capell reads "vomit to emptiness "; 
which gives a sense hardly strong enough for the place. See foot-note 6. 

P. 74. Not he : but yet Heaven's bounty towards him might 
Be used more thankfully : in himself, 'tis mtich ; 
In you, — which I 'count his, — beyond all talents. — The origi- 
nal reads "which I account his beyond all Talents." Pope and Capell 
read count instead of account. The pointing which I give in this pas- 
sage is Staunton's. As commonly pointed, beyond all talents goes with 
his ; here it falls into the same construction with 'tis much. See foot- 
note 13. 

P. 75. This object, which 

Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, 
Fixing it only here. — So the second folio. The first has Tier- 
ing instead of Fixing. 



204 CYMBELINE. 

P. 75. Then sit peeping in an eye 

Base and imlustrous as the smoky light, &c. — The original has 
illustrious, which some editors change to illustrous, supposing the pre- 
positive in to be used privatively, as in illiberal, not intensively, as in 
illustrious. So explained, it seems a right good word, meaning, of 
course, the same as " lack-lustre eye." Nevertheless the best authori- 
ties are for printing unlustrous. 

P. 76. Should he make me 

Lie, like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets, &c. — So Walker, 
and, as it seems to me, with evident propriety. The old text has Live 
instead of Lie. The two words were often confounded. 

P. 77. Such a holy witch, 

That he enchants societies unto him ; 

Half all men's hearts are his. — The original has into and men 
instead of unto and men's. 

P. 78. He sits 'mongst men like a descended god. — So the second 
folio. The first has defended. 

Act 11., Scene i. 

P. 81. 1 Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord. — So Johnson. The 
original gives this speech to the second Lord. As the question is asked 
of the first Lord, surely he should answer it. It is but just to add that 
in the original the speeches of the two lords have merely the prefixes 
"1." and "2." 

Act 11., Scene 2. 

P. 83. But my design's 

To note the chamber. I will write all down : &c. — So the third 
folio. The first has 



P. 84. Why should L tvrite this down that's riveted, 

Screw 'd to my memory? — So the third folio. The first has 
rivete. The Cambridge Editors say that some copies of the first have 
riveted. 



CRITICAL NOTES. 205 

P. 84. Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning 

May bare the raven's eye ! — The original reads " May beare the 
Ravens eye." Probably a mere mis-spelling of bare. See foot-note 9. 

Act 11., Scene 3. 

P. 86. With every thing that pretty is. — Hanmer, and some others 
after him, read "that pretty bin." Perhaps rightly; as we naturally 
expect a word to rhyme with begin. Bin is an old form of be. 

P. 87. If it do not, it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs and 
catgut, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can never amend. 
— The original reads "a voyce in her ears"; a misprint occasioned, 
perhaps, by voyce in the next line. Corrected by Rowe. The original 
also has amed for amend ; an obvious error, corrected in the second 
folio. 

P. 8j. I have assaiVd her with music, &c. — The original has mu- 
sickes. Corrected by Hanmer. 

P. 8j. Frame yourself 

To orderly soliciting, and be friended, &c. — So Collier and the 
Cambridge Editors. Instead of soliciting, the original has solicity, 
which the second folio changes to solicits. 

P. 88. "Tisgold 

Which buys admittance ; oft it doth; yea, makes 
Diana's rangers false themselves, &c. — So Pope. The original 
reads " yea, and makes." Here and spoils the metre, and hurts the 
sense. Probably one of the words was written as a correction of the 
other, and both got printed together. 

P. 90. Fools cure not mad folks. — So Theobald. The original reads 
" Fools are not mad folks." The use of cures in the third line after 
shows the change to be right. Cloten has just implied that his pur- 
pose is to cure Imogen of her imputed madness. She, in her reply, 
insinuates that he is a fool ; and so he understands her. Her next 



206 CYMBELINE. 

reply is in accordance with this ; meaning, " If you will desist from 
your folly in making suit to me, I will leave off being mad ; that act of 
yours will cure us both." 

P. 91. And must not soil 

The precious note of it with a base slave, &c. — The original 
has foyle instead of soil. Corrected by Hanmer. Note seems a rather 
strange word for the place. Perhaps it should be worth. 

P. 91. In my respect than all the hairs above thee, 

Were they all made such men. — Ho, now, Pisanio ! — The 
original has "How now Pisanio?" But Imogen is evidently calling 
Pisanio from another room, who accordingly enters directly upon the 
call; and how now was never used in that way. On the other hand, 
we have many instances of ho misprinted how. In a previous scene, 
Imogen repeatedly calls her man with " What, ho, Pisanio ! " and so 
perhaps it should be here. — In the first line, Singer reads "all the 
hairs about thee." Literally, this seems an improvement ; but the old 
reading means, of course, " all the hairs on thy head." 

P. 92. His garment! Now, the Devil — . — The original has "gar- 
ments" here, but "garment" rightly in the next speech but one. 
Corrected in the second folio. 



Act 11., Scene 4. 

P. 93. Quake in the present Winter's state, and wish 

That warmer days would come : hi these sere hopes, 
I barely gratify your love;&c. — In the first of these lines, 
Walker is confident that we ought to read flaw instead of state, which 
he calls an " unmeaning word." But why not understand state as 
equivalent to time ? — In the second line, the original reads " these 
feared hope." The second folio corrects hope to hopes. But what can 
fear'd hopes be ? The word sere was often written seare, and is some- 
times printed so in the originals of Shakespeare. 



CRITICAL NOTES. 207 

P. 93. And you shall hear 

The legions now in Gallia sootier landed, &c. — So Theobald. 
The original has Legion. In a later scene, however, iii. 7, it has ■ " the 
Legions now in Gallia." 

P. 94. Their discipline 

Now mingled with their courage will make known, &c. — The 
original reads "Now wing-led with their courages. 11 The latter cor- 
rection is Dyce's, and has both sense and prosody in its favour. The 
second folio makes the other correction. It agrees well with the 
context, as it gives the idea that the Britons had courage before, and 
discipline has now been added to courage. But for this latter con- 
sideration I should certainly read winged; as it seems to me nothing 
could well be more in the Poet's style than the figure of courage adding 
wings to discipline. 

P. 94. Phi. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain Court 

When you were there? — This speech is given to Posthumus in 
the old copy; but Posthumus was employed in reading his letters, and 
was too much interested in them to put a question of this nature. 
Corrected by Capell. 

P. 95. If I hsA lost it, 

I should have lost the worth of it in gold. — The original reads 
" If I have lost it." A certain and obvious error 

P. 96. Which 1 wonder 'd 

Could be so rarely and exactly wrought, 

Since the true life on't was — . — Capell reads " Since the true life 
was in it." And Mason proposed " Such the true life on't was." The 
latter is exceedingly plausible, as Such might easily be misprinted Since ; 
but the original has a long dash after was, showing the speech to be 
interrupted. 

P. 98. Who knows if one o' her women, being corrupted, 

Hath stol'n it from her ? — The original has " one her wo- 
men"; the second folio, " one of her women." 



208 CYMBELINE. 

Act ii., Scene 5. 

P. 100. All faults that may be named, nay, that Hell knows. — So the 
second folio. The first reads "All Faults that name.'" Dyce proposes 
"All faults that have a name" ; Walker, "All faults that man can 
name" 

Act hi., Scene i. 

P. 101. With rocks unscaleable and roaring waters. — The original 
has Oakes instead of rocks. Corrected by Hanmer. 

P. 102. Ccesar's ambition, — 

Which swelVd so much, that it did almost stretch 
The sides o J the world, &c. — Mr. P. A. Daniel proposes " stretch 
To th? sides o' the world." Rightly, I suspect. 

P. 102. Which to shake off 

Becomes a warlike people, who??i we reckon 
Ourselves to be. 
Clo. We do. 

Cym. Say, then, to Ccesar, &c. — So Collier's second 

folio, and Dyce. The original prints We do as a part of Cymbeline's 
speech, giving the whole line thus : " Ourselves to be, we do. Say then 
to Caesar." Modern editions detach we do from the first part of the 
line, and transfer it to the second, thus : " We do say, then, to Caesar." 
The arrangement here adopted gives us a most characteristic piece of 
impertinent pertinence from Cloten, whose rickety mind keeps shaking 
out pithy comments on what the others say, throughout this scene. 

P. 104. I know your master's pleasure, and he mine : 

All the remain is, Welcome. — Mr. P. A. Daniel says, " Read 
' All that remains is — Welcome? " And so, probably, it ought to be. 

Act hi., Scene 2. 

P. 104. How ! of adultery ? Wherefore write you not 

What monster 's her accuser ? Leonatus ! — So Capell, and 
rightly, beyond question. The original reads "What monsters her 
accuse ? " 



CRITI(|AL NOTES. 20Q 

P. 105. For it doth physic love, — of his content 

In all but that ! — So Hanmer. The original reads " All but in 
that." 

P. 106. "Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me in his 
dominion, could not be so cruel to me, but you, O the dearest of crea- 
tures would even renew me with your eyes." — So Pope. The original 
reads as instead of but ; which, it seems to me, quite defeats the pas- 
sage of sense. Various other changes have been made or proposed; 
but Pope's is the simplest and best. 

P. 107. And for the gap 

That we shall make in time, from our hence-going 
Till our rettirn, f excuse : but first, hozu to get hence : &c. — The 
original reads "how get hence." But, as hence is emphatic here, to 
seems fairly required ; and get is evidently in the same construction 
with excuse. To be sure, the insertion of to makes the verse an Alex- 
andrine ; but the omission does not make it a pentameter. The omis- 
sion was doubtless accidental. — The original also has And instead of 
Till. The correction is Pope's. And makes from equivalent to 
betzveen ; a sense, surely, which the word cannot bear. See note on 
"He cannot temperately transport his honours," &c, in Coriolanus, 
ii. 1. 

P. 107. How many score of miles may zve well ride 

' Tzuixt hour and hour ? — So the second folio. The first has 
store and rid for score and ride. 

P. 107. Pis. Madam, you're best consider. 

Imo. I see before me, man : nor here, nor here, &c. — Heath 
would read, and point, " I see before me, man ? Nor here, nor there" 
&c. And his explanation is as follows : " Wouldst thou, man, have me 
consider, and distract myself in the search of the consequences which 
may possibly attend the step I am about to take ? that would be to very 
little purpose indeed. For, whatever step I should take, whether I stay 
here, or go thither, the consequences which may attend either are all 
equally covered with such a thick mist of obscurity as it is impossible 



210 CYMBELINE. 

for me to penetrate ; and, this being so, it would be folly in me to de- 
liberate further on this subject." — I am not sure but Heath is right. 
See, however, foot-note 17. 

Act hi., Scene 3. 

P. 108. Stoop, boys : this gate 

Instructs you how f adore the Heavens, and bows you 
To morning's holy office. — The original has sleepe instead of 
stoop. Corrected by Hanmer. The original also reads "To a morn- 
ings holy office." Corrected by Walker. We have many instances 
of the same vile interpolation, equally against grammar, prosody, and 
sense. 

P. 109. That service is not service, so being done, &c. — So Pope and 
Collier's second folio. The original has This instead of That. 

P. 109. Richer than doing Jiothingfor a bribe. — So Hanmer. The 
original has " nothing for a Babe." Various other changes have been 
made or proposed, such as bauble, brabe, and bob ; but surely bribe is 
much the best, and is unreservedly approved by Walker. See foot- 
note 4. 

P. no. Such gain the cap of him that makes 'era fine, 

Yet keep his book uncrossed. — The original has him instead of 
'em; but the use of gain shows that the pronoun should be plural. 
The original has keepes also instead of keep. But the sense clearly 
requires this word to be in the same construction with gain. 

P. no. A prison for a debtor that not dares, &c. — The original has 
or instead of for. Corrected by Pope. 

P. 112. And, though trained up thus meanly, 

T the cave wherein they bow, &c. — The original has " whereon 
the Bowe." Corrected by Warburton. 

Act hi., Scene 4. 

P. 113. Ne'er longed my mother so 

To see me first, as I do now. — The original reads " as I have 
now." The correction is Mr. P. A. Daniel's. 



CRITICAL NOTES. 211 

P. 115. Some jay of Italy, 

Whose mother was her painting, hath betray d him. — It seems 
to me that a figure more in Shakespeare's style than this is hardly to be 
met with in the whole compass of his plays. Nevertheless some think 
the old reading should give place to Who smothers her zvith painting, 
which is found in Collier's second folio. Nothing short of a written 
order direct from the Poet himself would persuade me into such a 
substitution ; and even then I should entreat him to reconsider, before 
he authorized the change. See foot-note 5. 

P. 117. And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up 

My disobedience 'gainst the King my father, 

And make me put into contempt the suits 

Of princely fellows, &c. — In the first of these lines, the second 
thou is wanting in the old text. Inserted by Capell. In the third line, 
also, the original has 7nakes instead of make. Malone's correction. 

P. 117. I'll wake mine eyeballs blind first. — So Hanmer. The orig- 
inal lacks blind. 

P. 118. No Court, no father ; nor no more ado 

With that harsh, noble, simple nothing, Cloten. — So Theobald. 
The original is without Cloten. 

P. 119. Pis. If not at Court, 

Then not in Britain must you bide. 

Imo. What then ? 

Hath Britain all the Sun that shines? — The original has 
" Where then? " which is evidently wrong. Capell conjectured " What 
then? " which accords well with what follows. 

P. 119. /' the world's volume, 

Our Britain seems as in it, but not of 7/ 

In a great pool a swan's nest. — The original reads " as of it, 
but not in't." The correction is Mr. P. A. Daniel's, and is fully war- 
ranted by the context. " To be in the world, but not of it " has long 
been a sort of proverbial phrase. 



212 CYMBELINE. 

P. 119. Now, if you could wear a mind 

Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise 

That which, t- appear itself, must not yet be 

But by self-danger, you should tread a course 

Pretty and full of view ; &c. — In the first of these lines, War- 
burton conjectured and Theobald printed " if you could wear a mien " ; 
thus making it refer to the proposed concealment of Imogen's person, 
or to her keeping dark under a disguise. The change is at least 
plausible ; but it renders the passage somewhat tautological, and de- 
feats the better sense of carrying out the disguise of her person by 
disguising her character also. Accordingly, Pisanio presently advises 
her to assume strange manners as well as a strange dress. — In the fifth 
line, Collier's second folio reads "Privy, yet full of view." I think 
this change pleads strongly for admission. See, however, foot-note 15. 



P. 121. Which you'll make him know, 

If that his head have ear in music, &c. — The original has will 
instead of you'll. Hanmer's correction. 



Act hi., Scene 5. 

P. 122. So, sir, I desire of you 

A conduct overland to Milford- Haven. 

All joy befall your Grace ! — and, madam, you ! — The original 
gives the last line thus : " Madam, all joy befall your Grace, and you." 
Editors have puzzled a good deal over this passage, and various 
changes have been proposed. Capell conjectured " his Grace and 
you," but printed "your Grace and yours.'" Mr. P. A. Daniel proposes 
"All joy befall your Grace ! Madam, and you ! " I have varied a little 
from this for metre's sake. 



P. 124. And there's no answer 

That will be given to th' loudest noise we make. — So Rowe. 
The original reads " given to th' lowd of noise, we make." Collier's 
second folio, " given to the loud'st noise." 



CRITICAL NOTES. 213 

P. 124. Son, — son, I say, follow the King. — 

So Walker. The original reads " Sonne, I say, follow the King." 
The repetition seems fairly required both for metre and for sense. The 
new turn in the situation casts Cloten into a fit of abstraction. 

P. 125. Close villain, I 

Will have this secret from thy heart, or rip, &c. — So Dyce. 

The original reads 

Close villaine, 
He have this Secret from thy heart, &c. 

P. 128. Thou bidd'sl me to thy loss. — So Collier's second folio. The 
original has "to my losse "; which seems to me little better than un- 
meaning here. 

Act hi., Scene 6. 

P. 129. Best draw my szvord : an if mine enemy 

But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't. — The origi- 
nal has and instead of an. The old phrase an if is very often 
printed so. 

P. 131. / would have left it on the board so soon 
As I had made my meal, and parted 'so, 

With prayers for the provider. — The original lacks the second 
so, which is CapelPs insertion. Pope reads " and parted thence" 

P. 133. I 'd change my sex to be companion with them, 

Since Leonate is false. — The original lacks is and has Leona- 
tus. Capell conjectured " Since Leonate is false." And I have no 
doubt that so we ought to read. The Poet shortens other names in the 
same way ; as Enobarb for Enobarbus. 

Act hi., Scene 7. 

P. 133. And to you the tribunes 

For this immediate levy, he commends 

His absolute commission. — So Theobald, adopting a conjecture 
Of Warburton's. The old text has commands instead of commends. 
But, as Singer notes, " to commend was the old formula. We have it 



214 CYMBELINE. 

again in King Lear : 'I did commend your Highness' letters to them.' 
And in All's Well: ' Commend the paper to his gracious hand.' " See, 
also, foot-note 17. 

Act iv., Scene i. 

P. 135. Thy mistress enforced ; thy garments cut to pieces before her 
face: &c. — The original reads "before thy face." An accidental 
repetition, no doubt. Warburton's correction. 

Act iv., Scene 2. 

P. 136. As much the quantity, the weight as much, 

As I do love my father. — So Heath and Capell. The original 
reads " Hoza much the quantity." 

P. 137. Imo. Well or ill, 

I'm bound to you, and shall be ever. — So Warburton and 
Heath. The original, with shall instead of shall, prints " and shall 
be ever " as part of the next speech. 

P. 138. Gui. But his neat cookery ! he cut our roots 

In characters ; and sauced our broths, &c. — The original 
prints this as two speeches, prefixing " Arvi." to all after cookery ! But 
the whole was evidently meant to be one speech. Corrected by Capell. 

P. 138. I do note 

That grief and patience, rooted in him both, &c — The original 
has " rooted in them both." Corrected by Pope. 

P. 138. Grow, patience ! 

And let the stinking elder, grief, untivine 

His perishing root with the increasing vine ! — The original 
has patient instead of patience. Corrected by Theobald. Hanmer 
reads " from the increasing vine." I have little doubt that frofti is 
right. See foot-note 10. 

P. 141. For the act of judgment 

Is oft the cause of fear. — The original reads " for defect of 
judgment." This cannot be right ; for Belarius evidently means that 



CRITICAL NOTES. 215 

Cloten's want of judgment was the cause of his foolhardy courage. 
The Cambridge Editors think that something may have dropped out, 
and that " the original sentence may have been to the following pur- 
port : ' For defect of judgement supplies the place of courage, while 
true judgement is oft the cause of fear.' " Hanmer reads " Is oft the 
cure of fear "; Theobald, " for tW effect of judgment." Either of these 
rectifies the logic fairly; though the first takes cure in the sense of 
prevention ; while the other seems rather too much like Polonius's 
pedantic playing on cause, effect, and defect ; Hamlet, ii. 2. The Poet 
often uses act in the sense here required. See foot-note 14. 

P. 141 . Displace our heads zvhere — thank the gods ! — they grow, &c. 
— The original has thanks. Corrected by Steevens. 

P. 142. Though his humour 

Was nothing but mutation, &c. — The original has Honor. 
Corrected by Theobald. The error occurs repeatedly. 

P. 143. Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st 

In these two princely boys ! — The original has thou instead of 
how. Corrected by Pope. 

P. 144. ' Tis wonderful 

That an invisible instinct should frame them, &c. — So Pope 
and Walker. The old text has wonder instead of wondei'ful. 

P. 144. My ingenious instrument! — The original has ingenuous. 
Corrected by Rowe. 

P. 145. O melancholy ! 

Who ever yet could sound thy bottom, find 
Thy ooze ? or show what coast thy sluggish crare 
Might easiliest harbour in? — The original reads "The Ooze, 
to shew what coast thy sluggish care Mighfst easilest harbour in." The 
second folio corrects Might' 'st to Might. The correction of care to 
crare was proposed by Sympson in a note on a passage in Fletcher's 
Captain : " Let him venture in some decayed crare of his own." Ca- 
pell proposed to substitute or for to. I believe all the editors hitherto 



2l6 CYMBELINE. 

have retained "The ooze"; which makes me almost afraid to trust my 
own judgment in the change : but, surely, " sound thy bottom " and 
" find the ooze " both refer to the same thing, and are indeed meant as 
equivalent expressions. 

P. 145. Jove knows what man thou mightst have made ; but ah, 

Thou diedst, &c. — So Rowe. The original has / instead of ah. 
I, ah, and ay were often confounded ; in fact, / was sometimes under- 
stood to do service for all three. 

P. 146. Thou shalt not lack 

The fiozver that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor 

The azure harebell, like thy veins ; no, nor 

The leaf 'of 'eglantine, who, not to slander, 

Out-sweeten" 1 d not thy breath. — In the second of these lines, the 
original has azur^d for azure ; in the third, who?n instead of who. 
Collier's second folio reads "The leafy eglantine." This is at least 
plausible, as the speaker is making special mention of flowers ; but he 
probably means the sweet-briar, or rosa rubiginosa, which is noted for 
the fragrance of its leaves. 

P. 146. Yea, and furr } d moss besides, when flowers are none, 

To winter-guard thy corse. — So Collier's second folio. The 
original has "winter-ground." This phrase does not tell its own mean- 
ing ; and, as it is not met with elsewhere, we have no means of ex- 
plaining it. Two other good corrections have been proposed, " winter- 
gotvn," by Warburton, and " winter-^r^w," by Verplanck. I find it not 
easy to choose between the three. Walker strongly approves of 
winter-gown. 

P. 147. Sing him to tit ground, 

As once our mother ; &c. — The original reads "As once to our 
Mother." 

P. 148. And, though he came our enemy, remember 

He's paid for that. — The original has " He was paid for that." 

P. 148. " Fear no more the heat o' the Sun, &c." — It is doubtful, to say 
the least, whether these stanzas were written by Shakespeare ; and it is 
pretty certain, as will be noted hereafter, that some things in this play 



I 

CRITICAL NOTES. 21 7 

were not written by him. The previous arrangement was, " Use like 
note and words, save that Euriphile must be Fidele " ; yet no name is 
met with in the dirge : which looks as if either the Poet forgot that 
arrangement or else the stanzas were furnished by another hand. Yet 
I can hardly doubt that they were written with a special view to the 
use here made of them. White indeed thinks the song quite out of 
keeping with the time and place ; remarking that " it could hardly be 
at once tamer, more pretentious, and less suited to the characters." 
But I cannot see it so : on the contrary, I have to confess that, though 
perhaps more from long association than from judgment, the lines feel 
to me very much at home where they are, and fall in accordantly 
enough with the spirit of the persons and the occasion. Still I do not 
think them Shakespeare's, nor will I venture to guess who else may 
have written them. Staunton notes upon the matter as follows : " There 
is something so strikingly inferior, both in the thoughts and expression 
of the concluding couplet to each stanza of this song, that we may fairly 
set them down as additions from the same hand which furnished the 
contemptible Masque or Vision that deforms the last Act." 

P. 149. Upon Earth's face 

You were as flowers ; now wither' 'd ': even so 
These herblets shall, which we upon you strow. — The old text 
reads " upon their Faces." As there is but one face, Cloten's having 
gone its way with the message to the fishes, editors have commonly 
attributed an oversight to the Poet. The reading here given is Staun- 
ton's. 



P. 150. Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain. — The origi- 
nal has " so are their paine." Corrected by Pope. 

P. 151. Pisanio might have kiWd thee at the heart, 

And left thy head on. — How should this be? — The original 
reads " left this head on." Corrected by Hanmer. 

P. 151. This is Pisanio' 1 's deed and Cloten's. — The original has 
Cloten. Pope's correction. 



2l8 CYMBELINE. 

P. 152. Attending 

You here at Milford- Haven zuith your ships, 
They are in readiness. — The original has " They are heere in 
readinesse." Doubtless an accidental repetition from the line above. 
Corrected in the second folio. 

P. 153. There is no more such masters : I may wander 
Fro?n East to Occident, cry out for service, 
Try many, and all good, serve truly, &c. — In the first of these 
lines, the second folio has "There are no more," &c. — Also, in the 
third line, and, wanting in the old text, was inserted by Johnson. 

Act iv., Scene 3. 

P. 155. A fever with the absence of her son ; 

Madness, of which her life's in danger. — The original has "A 
madnesse." Walker says, "Wrong surely ; the latter A originating in 
the former." Pope reads as in the text. 

P. 155. But for thee, thee, fellow, 

Who needs mtist know of her departure, &c. — So Capell and 
Walker. The original reads " But for thee, Fellow," &c. 

P. 155. There wants no diligence in seeking him, 

And he'll, no doubt, be found. — So Capell. The original has 
"And will no doubt be found." 

P. 156. I've had no letter from my master since 

I wrote him Imogen was slain. — So Hanmer. The original 
reads "I heard no Letter," &c. ; which is neither English nor sense. 

Act iv., Scene 4. 

P. 157. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, &c. — So the second 
folio. The first has "we finde in life." 

P. 158. It is not likely 

That when they hear the Roman horses neigh, 
Behold their quartered fires, &c. — The original has " heare 
their Roman horses neigh." Probably an accidental repetition from 
the line below. Corrected by Rowe. 



I 

CRITICAL NOTES. 219 



Act v., Scene i. 

P. 160. Yea, bloody cloth, I HI keep thee ; for I wished 

Thou shouldst be colour 'd thus. — The original reads "for I am 
wisht." Corrected by Pope. 

P. 160. You some permit 

To second ills with ills, each elder worse, 

And make them dreaded to the doer 's thrift. — The original 
has dread it instead of dreaded, which is Theobald's correction. — 
Singer substitutes shrift for thrift ; and from the way he speaks of the 
old reading one would think the idea had never occurred to him, of 
men's thriving in this world by wrong, and achieving the larger success 
for being reckless how they succeed. As here given, the passage, 
though highly condensed, yields a just and fitting sense, and one which 
is not seldom exemplified among men. See foot-note 5. 



Act v., Scene 3. 

P. 164. "Or we are Romans, and will give you that 

Like beasts which you shun beastly, and may 'scape 
But to look back in frown." — The original has save instead of 
' 'scape. As the meaning evidently is, " we will give you the death which 
you shun in a beastly manner, and which you may — ," &c. ; surely there 
can be no doubt that we should read 'scape. " To save one's life " is 
good sense ; but who ever heard such a phrase as " to save one's 
death " ? 

P. 164. Forthwith they fly 

Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles ; slaves, 

The strides they victors made. — The original reads " they stopt 

Eagles," and " The strides the Victors made." The first was corrected 

by Rowe, the other by Theobald. 

P. 167. A lag of Rome shall not return to tell, &c. — The original 
has " A legge of Rome." The correction is Mr. P. A. Daniel's ; who 
aptly quotes from Timon of Athens, iii. 6, " the common legge of 



220 CYMBELINE. 

people," and adds as follows : " In this instance Rowe — followed, I 
believe, by all the editors — changes the word legge to lag." In that 
passage, however, I read tag, from Collier's second folio ; but that is 
nothing against lag here. Of course lag is the same as lag-end, — a 
phrase used several times by Shakespeare. 

Act v., Scene 4. 

P. 167. So graze as you find pasture. 

2 Jail. Ay, or stomach. — The origi- 

nal has " or a stomacke." Another instance of a vilely interpolated. 
See page 210 ; note on " Stoop, boys : " &c. 

P. 169. And so, great powers, 

If you will make this audit, take my life, 

And cancel these cold bonds. — The original reads " If you will 
take this audit, take this life." The corrections are Mr. P. A. Daniel's. 
Walker notes the first take as suspicious ; and it is remarkable that in the 
original we have no less than six takes in the compass of twelve lines. 
It is worth something to get rid of one of them ; and in this place 
make does just as well for the sense. 

P. 169. "Solemn Music. Enter, as an Apparition," &c. — This 
stage-direction, together with all the following matter down to the re- 
entrance of the first Jailer, is such a piece of dull impertinence as, 
most assuredly, Shakespeare could never have written. In style, cast 
of language, and versification, it is utterly unlike the rest of the play, or 
indeed any thing else that came from his hand. Still I am inclined to 
think that it was supplied by some other hand at the time, and that the 
Poet himself worked it in with his own noble matter. . For the " label " 
is perhaps the absurdest and most un-Shakespearian part of the whole ; 
yet the contents of it are, by the still more absurd interpretation of 
them at the close, so wrought into the dialogue as to make the " label " 
itself an inseparable item of the drama. As to the dialogue that 
follows, between Posthumus and the Jailer, I am not so clear ; though 
that too might be spared without any detriment to the action. See the 
Introduction, page 14. 



CRITICAL NOTES. 221 

P. 1 70. For this, from stiller seats we come. — So Dyce. The 
original has came ; an error which the context readily corrects. 

P. 171. Thy crystal window ope; look out. — So the second folio. 
The first has " looke, looke out." 

P. 174. Of this contradiction you shall now be quit. O, the charity 
of a penny cord! — The original reads " Oh, of this contradiction you 
shall now be quit ; Oh, the charity," &c. We have many instances of 
such repetition by a sort of anticipation ; that is, a later word catching 
the transcriber's or compositor's eye, and so creeping in out of place. 

P. 175. You must either be directed by some that take upon them to 
know, or take upon yourself 'that which, &c. — The original reads "or 
to take upon your selfe." Evidently an accidental repetition of to. 



Act v., Scene 5. 

P. 178. By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to 
Overcome you with her show ; and so in time, 
When she had 'fit you with her craft, to work, &c. — The origi- 
nal lacks so in the second line, and has fitted in the third. In the 
former case, the second folio ekes out the verse awkwardly thus, — 
"yes, and in time." The present reading was proposed by Jervis. The 
other correction is Walker's. See page 120, note 19. 

P. 179. Mine ears, that heard her flattery ; &c. — The original has 
heare instead of heard. Corrected in the second folio. 

P. 180. Boy, thou hast look 'd thyself into my grace. 

And art mine own. I know not why nor wherefore 
To say, &c. — The original omits nor in the second line. 
Inserted by Rowe. 

P. 181. Bel. Is not this boy revived from death ? 

Arv. One sand another 

Not more resembles ; that sweet rosy lad 
Who died, and was Fidele. — What think you ? 



222 CYMBELINE. 

Gui. The same dead thing alive. — In the original, the 
second of these speeches reads " One sand another Not more resembles 
that sweet rosy lad," &c. This has vastly puzzled some of the editors. 
But, as Johnson saw, the passage is elliptical, and the sense is evidently 
completed at resembles. Then the meaning comes, " he is that sweet 
rosy lad." I cannot conceive what Dyce and the Cambridge Editors 
mean by printing "Not more resembles that sweet," &c; which is 
neither English nor sense ; nor can any violence of interpretation make 
it so. We have a parallel case in King Lear. See note on "You have, 
seen sunshine and rain at once," &c, King Lear, page 224. 

P. 181. But we saw him dead. — The original has see instead of saw. 
Corrected by Rowe. 

P. 182. 'Twould torture me to leave unspoken that 

Which, to be spoke, would torture thee. — The original has 
" Thou Ht torture me to leave," &c. But the use of would in the next 
line declares strongly for the same word here. And Dyce's explanation 
of the old reading is, I think, enough to condemn it : " Instead of 
torturing me to speak, thou wouldst (if thou wert wise, or aware) 
torture me to prevent my speaking," &c. Iachimo's next speech shows 
his meaning here to be, that it torments him not to speak the truth in 
question. 

P. 182. I'm glad to be constrained to utter that 

Torments me to conceal. — The original reads " utter that 
Which torments me," thus spoiling the metre of the next line. Perhaps 
we ought to make the latter an Alexandrine, " utter that Which it 
torments me," &c. But the old poets, Shakespeare especially, often 
use that as equivalent to the compound relative what. So that which, 
in this case, is probably an interpolation. 

P. 185. This her bracelet, — 

O cunning, how I got it ! — nay, some marks, &c. — The origi- 
nal omits it. Corrected in the second folio. 

P. 185. Ah me, most credulous fool, 

Egregious murderer, thief, any thing 
That 'j due to all the villains past, in being, 



CRITICAL NOTES. 223 

To come ! O, give ??ie cord, or knife, or poison, 
Some upright justicer ! — Thou, King, &c. — Here Staunton 
proposes a reading which may be worth considering : 

Give me — most credulous fool, 
Egregious murderer, thief — any thing 
That's due to all the villains past, in being, or 
To come, — O, give me cord, or knife, or poison, 
Some upright justicer ! 

P. 1 86. O, gentlemen, help, help ! 

Mine and your mistress ! — So Capell. The second help is not 
in the original. Both sense and metre call for it. 

P. 189. I'm sorry for thee : 

By thine own tongue thou art condemn 'd, &c. — So the second 
folio. The first has sorrow instead of sorry. 

P. 189. This man is better than the man he slew ; 

As well descended as thyself; and hath 

More of thee merited than a band of Clotens 

Had ever scorse for. — The original reads " Had ever scarre 
for "; which is commonly printed " Had ever scar for." But scar, in 
any sense known to us, can have no possible fitness here. Doubtless 
scarre is a misprint for scorse, which was a rare word, and going out 
of use at the time. 

P. 191. Your pleasure was my mere offence, &c. — The original has 
"my neere offence." The correction is Tyrwhitt's. 

P. 192. O, what! am I 

A mother to the birth of three ? Ne'er mother 
Rejoiced deliverance more. — Blest may you be, &c. — The 
original has "pray you be." A very easy misprint ; corrected by 
Rowe. — Hanmer punctuates the first sentence thus : " O what am I ? 
A mother to the birth of three ! " And so Walker thinks it should be. 

P. 193. You call ' V me brother, 

When I was but your sister ; I you brothers, 
When ye were so indeed. — The original has we instead of ye. 
Corrected by Rowe. 



224 CYMBELINE. 

P. 193. How parted with your brothers? how first met them? &c. 
— The original has Brother ; an error which them corrects. 



P. 194. The fdrlorn soldier that so nobly fought, &c. — So the second 
folio. The first has no instead of so. 

P. 194 I am, sir King, 

The soldier that did company these three 

In poor beseeming. — The original lacks King, and so makes 
an ugly gap in the metre. Pope, to fill up the verse, reads " ' Tis I am, 
sir," &c. Keightley reads " I am, great sir," &c. The reading in the 
text was proposed anonymously. The phrase " sir King " occurs earlier 
in this scene. 

P. 196. Which mulier / divine 

Is thy most constant wife ; &c. — The original has this instead 
of thy. The latter is plainly required by the context. Corrected by 
Capell. 

P. 196. By peace we will begin. — So Hanmer. The original reads 
"[My peace "; which surely cannot be right : if any pronoun were used, 
it should evidently be Our. My and we do not harmonize. On the 
other hand, " we will begin by peace," or with peace, is a fitting re- 
sponse to the Soothsayer's prediction of " peace and plenty." 

P. 197. Ere the stroke 

Of 'this yet scarce-cold battle, &c. — The original reads " Of yet 
this scarse-cold." Corrected in the third folio. 



:nt 



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to live, breathe, think, and feel with l4e 
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The N. Y. Evening Post : Mr. 

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are the most discriminating, judicious, 
and helpful that we, after acquiring a 
considerable familiarity with different 
commentators, have ever yet found. 
Their author is never guilty of cun- 
ningly ignoring the real difficulties, 
while diverting the reader's attention 
in pompously " knocking over men of 
straw." From years of experience in 
teaching Shakespeare as a text-book, 



he knows exactly what points deserve 
to be expounded, and these he grasps 
with a masterful hand, — a hand whose 
movement is as felicitous as it is rapid. 
The exquisite type, cream-laid paper, 
ample margins, and tasteful binding of 
these volumes are the fitting and beau- 
tiful outer garment of the mental power 
and grace that dwell within. 

The School Bulletin, N.Y. : In 

the first place it is typographically alto- 
gether better than any of those we have 
mentioned. The books are thin enough 
to slip into a side-pocket, while the 
type of the text is large enough for any 
eye, and stands out clean-cut and fresh 
from the printed page. Any of us may 
be content to leave the text to Mr. 
Hudson, who ranks beyond question 
among the few accredited Shakespeare 
scholars ; and the text as he prepared 
it has been printed with rare accuracy ; 
a single turned s being the only error 
we noted in looking through several 
volumes. The life of Shakespeare, 
which he has prefixed, we read with 
interest, not only in Shakespeare, but 
in Mr. Hudson. The little that is 
known of the poet is stated in terse, 
forcible, sometimes rugged English, 
manifestly modelled on the Elizabethan 
idiom rather than the smoother and 
feebler elegance of Addison. These 
notes abound in information. In those 
to the Merchant of Venice we are told 
who were Janus, Nestor, HeraclitUs, 
the Cumaean Sibyl, the Sophy, Lichas, 
Hesione, Midas, Pythagoras, Troilus 
and Cressida, Medea and Jason, En- 
dymion, where were the Rialto, the 
Hyrcanian deserts, the Goodwin Sands, 
the Tranect, Erebus; what was the 
origin of Black Monday ; the value of 
the doit, and the ducat ; the ratio of 
silver to gold then and now; the 
special charm of the turquoise. The 
verbal notes are of course numerous. 
Nor are they simple definitions. We 



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